The Stolen Time
by c1araoswa1d
Summary: The Doctor and Clara are kidnapped by a race of scientists with sinister plans for the pair. (Written for tumblr prompt: "Clara gets pregnant with the Doctors baby BUT They didn't have sex or any kind of sexy times. In fact they haven't even talked about love or feelings yet. Alien Machines may be involved." - So you know what you're getting into here. Rating is for evil.)
1. Chapter 1

There was a swimming feeling in her stomach as she started to come to and Clara rolled to her side, one hand coming up to clutch at her head. It was pounding just behind her eyes and she couldn't quite recall what had happened to cause it. Slowly blinking, she looked out at the white surface she was lying on and she jerked, inhaling sharply, and pushing off the ground, met with an immediate wave of nausea. It brought unexpected dry heaves that burned at her throat and stung her eyes as she lifted herself on her hands and knees and tried to combat the feeling.

You were on the Tardis, she told herself. No, she argued, we were on a planet.

"_Largest medical facility for ten galaxies_!"

Clara opened her eyes again and looked to the spit she'd managed to cough up before inching away, hearing the odd squeaks the skin of her knees were giving against the plastic beneath her. Eyes coming up, she winced against the brightness of the room around her as she looked for the Doctor. He was with you, she knew, he was holding your hand and leading you somewhere. No, not leading…

"_Clara, run_!"

They were getting away from something. Something chasing them, someone. Some group. Clara shook her head, trying to dispel the cloudiness of the memory, to try and understand what was happening and she coughed again, backing up into a wall that she leaned against, taking in the room again and knowing, definitively, that the Doctor was not with her.

"Hello?" She managed, but her voice was broken, weak, and her throat felt thick.

Her senses were coming back to her, slowly and she tried to relax – to do what the Doctor would do – absorb everything around her for clues, but it seemed pointless. It was silent, eerily so, and she could almost hear her heartbeat in her ear as she tried to stand, stumbling, fingers splayed on the ground beneath her when she collapsed and she glanced down at her legs. Clara touched them gently, feeling the numbness that came with immobility and she scratched instinctively, closing her eyes against the pins and needles starting to pick at her.

"Don't try to move," came the male voice over a loudspeaker she couldn't see.

"Hello!" Clara called, hand freezing at her knee. "Hello, can you hear me?"

"Don't try to move," the voice responded, evenly.

She nodded, slowly, and brought her legs up underneath her as she leaned against the wall, trying to see where someone might enter or exit because she needed to get out. Clara needed to find the Doctor so he could tell her what had happened – or at least so she knew she had someone with her with whom she might be able to extrapolate what happened.

They were on a planet, she reminded herself.

_They were on a planet_.

Her head gave a shake as she tried to bring the moment to the forefront, stepping out of the Tardis into the pristine building with glass walls and a bustle of activity, but her concentration was broken by a swooshing sound nearby and she glanced up to see the two men enter. Or, at least, she presumed they were men. They were as tall as men, but their faces weren't human. Clara couldn't tell what they were.

They were vague, featureless, with oversized eyes that stared into her blankly. She thought they looked almost like the creatures in books about UFO's she'd seen at the library. Movies she'd seen on the television. The first familiar aliens she'd had the misfortune of meeting and they moved hastily towards her with purpose that pumped the blood through her veins quick enough to make her faint.

"Where am I?" She demanded as they picked her up off the ground by her arms, turning towards a gurney being floated in and Clara looked from one expressionless face to the next and repeated loudly, "_Where am I_?"

One of the men entering approached with a gun and she shouted out, trying to struggle to free herself from their grasp, but when she finally did, her legs collapsed underneath her, leaving her grasping at the squeaky material there to try and get away. She knew it was pointless – five of them and one of her – but she tried anyways, slapping away the long fingers that curled around her waist, holding her in place as the gun was pressed to the side of her neck and she screamed when it discharged, pinching her skin to inject her.

"_Doctor_!" Clara shouted, but she could feel her voice leave her as she fell unconscious.

_They were on a planet_.

* * *

"Clara!" The Doctor gasped awake, hands coming up defensively before he blinked at the bright lights that blared down at him from an incredibly high place. He winced against the headache pounding between his ears as he raised himself up into a sitting position and tried to get a look around. The room seemed like some sort of decontamination chamber – stark white and void of any furniture or any of anything, he observed. It could be a prison chamber of sorts, he also knew, hand coming absently to his breast pocket and frowning when he found nothing. _Of course they'd take the Sonic_. Studying himself, he groaned, they'd taken everything from his pockets.

They'd even taken the purple tweed and the waistcoat he'd been wearing.

Testing, he found the bowtie at his neck and then frowned.

"Clara," he breathed, glancing around and looking for the diminutive woman he'd been travelling with and he found himself in a momentary state of panic because she wasn't just a few inches away. Or even a few feet. She was nowhere to be found and he settled 'find Clara' at the top of his to-do list, just ahead of 'figure out where you are' and 'figure out who took you' and 'figure out why' and 'figure out how to get out of where you are' and 'try not to lose your head in the process'.

Shifting his weight, he stood with some effort, body still shaking off the effects of whatever he'd been given to sedate him and he stumbled forward, hands reaching out until they landed roughly against a wall. The Doctor moved around in a circle and nodded, accepting that it was the inside of an egg. _No_. It was an egg-shaped room. It was meant to give the appearance of space. Corners created spatial parameters, edges, finality whereas rounded edges made eggs.

_Made infinity_, he corrected.

Infinity all around meant to sooth, but actually psychologically terrifying as it provided no end, no limits, no space to concentrate the eyes and no assurances of safety because anything could come at you from any side. And eventually it created a sense of paranoia, of misdirection and a loss of sense, which lead to nausea and panic and… He stopped, hands pressed into the wall and shifted back. Doorway. Slight dip at the edges. Minute and indiscernible to the average being. But smooth, melded into one another. Liquefiable fibers capable of being strengthened and slacked at will, possibly with sound vibrations or…

"Please step away from the door."

"Sorry, what?" The Doctor replied.

"Please step away from the door."

He smiled, "Prefer not to; would like to leave, actually – and I've misplaced my companion. Small woman, brown hair, brown eyes, goes by the name Cl…"

"Please step away from the door."

With a nod, he took a step back.

"Please step away from the door."

"You were fairly clear and I was fairly obedient."

"Please step away from the door."

With a scowl, he took several more steps back and clasped his hands together, awaiting the door's opening, as he had yet to take his eyes off the irregularities in the wall. He imagined Clara was stuck inside a room like this one, afraid for her life and waiting for him to come save her. Or, he smiled, or she'd found the door, managed to kick it open with her small, but feisty legs, and was on her way with some sort of futuristic weaponry to save him.

The door shifted open and several aliens entered and he tilted his head, "Or you," he supplied before realization set in on his mind and he jerked away, shifting backwards until he landed with a thud at the opposite wall shouting, "_What have you done with her_?"

Hands wrapped themselves around his arms as he struggled to free himself and they worked against his tugs and growls. A high kick was avoided and his leg was slapped away painfully when it came up again. "Classification: Time Lord," he was told.

"Where's Clara?"

"Female companion to the Time Lord. Classification: Human, purity level, 97 percent," came the response.

He feigned a smile, "Yes, she's my human, could you give her back?"

"Human is being examined for anomalies."

"Clara has no anomalies, she's human," the Doctor told them as calmly as he could through his clenched jaw, watching them ready an injection gun at the entrance that he knew was for him.

"Human contains anomalous cell cluster," he was informed plainly.

"If she contains an anomalous cell cluster, you put it there," the Doctor shouted, knowing exactly who these beings were and what they were capable of. "What did you put in her?" He asked pointedly, watching the one with the gun approaching from the opening. "_What did you put in her_?"

"Human will incubate cluster; outcome will be studied for viability."

"You can't experiment on her, she hasn't consented!" He gave a rough pull on his arm and shouted when the fingers wrapped around him squeezed and a knee went into the back of his, dropping him to the ground. "She hasn't consented, we haven't consented!"

"Arrival on the planet of Grasfth, as known Universal Hospice and Quarantine Center, is contingent upon agreement to submit to exam and possible containment by the Council of Kukof."

The Doctor shook his head angrily, "And upon what grounds have we been sequestered – neither of us has been exposed to any of the illnesses currently requiring quarantine."

Pressing the gun to the Doctor's neck, the alien at his side remained silent as he pulled the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Clara was shouting aboard the Tardis, left hand gripped painfully against her chest and she gave a few small hops of discomfort as the Doctor worked the levers and tapped at a screen, glancing up at her. His lips tightened as he took in the way she grimaced and worked to keep her balance against the console, free hand coming loose just long enough for him to get a look at her other hand. It'd been chomped tightly in the mouth of a carnivorous plant in what should have been a lovely trip to one of the largest botanical gardens in the universe and he could see the trails of blood rolling over her wrist and soaking into the sleeves of her cardigan._

_ "Where are we going?" She managed._

_ "Grasfth," he responded quickly, gaining a furrowed look of confusion before exclaiming towards her, hands held out, "The largest medical facility for ten galaxies!"_

_ "Hospital planet?" She asked._

_ "Hospital planet," he repeated dully._

_ "Can't we just… go to a hospital?" Clara questioned._

_ He half-smiled and shook his head, "And tell them, what? You've got venom in that hand they've never seen and you'll end up in a CDC hold somewhere until I can get UNIT to convince them to let you go."_

_ Clara nodded, then her head came up quickly and her eyes widened, "Venom?!"_

_ He reached out, hand covering hers on the console, feeling the stickiness of her blood on his skin, before telling her quietly, "No worries, it's non-lethal," then adding, "Just let me know if you start to feel lethargic."_

_ She lifted her fingers slightly, letting them intertwine with his as she moved closer to him and nodded to the Tardis, asking, "Hospital planet. How far?"_

_ They set down roughly and she tumbled against him, shouting when he reached around her to hold her steady and grazed her injured hand with his. "Sorry," he muttered, now shifting her so she leaned against the console and he pried her hand away from her chest and the blood smeared over the grey material buttoned over her. "Let me see it," he complained when she pulled away._

_ Clara gestured at the doors, "Hospital planet," she told him weakly._

_ "Clara," he sighed, waiting as she watched him a moment before letting him take her hand delicately in his to look over it as she hissed in pain._

_ He could make out the holes where the teeth had grabbed hold, just at the center of her palm and through the back and he knew some of those puncture wounds went straight through. Glancing up, he could see the warm tears rolling over her cheeks and the way her mouth was rigid, teeth against teeth, as she tried not to let him know how much pain she was truly in. Her foot shifted slightly against the metal between his and he nodded, holding her wrist gently and lifting the other hand to her shoulder to guide her towards the Tardis doors._

_ She allowed him, feeling suddenly weak, and Clara felt somewhat guilty when they stepped through the doors and looked up at floor upon floor of cream colored walls and white railing across from the glass outer casing of the building they were in. They were in some sort of lobby, she knew, and he couldn't even excitedly tell her about it because he stood just beside her, face wrought with concern over her._

_ "I'm sorry I tried to touch it," she mumbled._

_ He smiled, "No, Clara, I should have warned you about the plant life."_

_ "No," she shook her head, feeling someone else at her other side, "I shouldn't have…" but her words disappeared in a mumble of nothingness and she dropped into a seat, feeling his fingers curl around her cheek just before they slipped away and she was moving._

* * *

"_Clara_?"

His voice seemed distant and she chuckled to herself from where she laid – and she knew she was reclined – reaching out absently towards the sound of his small breath of laughter. Her fingers touched against smooth skin and she frowned, searching for the familiar features and finding cool flaccid nothing. Eyes lazily opening, she stared up at the white face hovering over her as it rattled off a series of words that made no sense to her and she frowned.

"No," she told it plainly, "No, where is the Doctor?"

"Female Human requests the Time Lord." The words vibrated through her skull like nails on a chalk board and she grimaced. "Possible hallucinogenic state caused by lack of appropriate nutrients, switching to Human schedule of feeding."

"What?" Clara managed.

She shook her head, lifting her hands again to see the tubes running from the crook of each arm and she panicked, struggling and shouting out against the aliens that were holding her against the bed. She watched one inject something into a knob in the tube at her left and she screamed, but it went silent almost immediately as her arms fell back heavily.

"Stop," she breathed.

"_Close your eyes, Clara, it'll be fine soon_."

"Doctor?" She mouthed, eyelids defying her wishes to stay open.

* * *

With a growl that grew into a scream, the Doctor woke in a new room and immediately pulled himself to his feet, stumbling in a daze towards the wall in the dimmed light. He'd been changed into a loose fitting pair of trousers and t-shirt and he'd been left barefoot. Lifting a limp arm, the Doctor pounded weakly against the surface. After a moment, he pounded again and he listened to the silence on the other side, waiting until his strength returned.

"Please refrain from using excessive force."

"_Where is Clara_?" He shouted, face going red with effort.

"Human female…" they started.

"_Her name is Clara! Where is she_?!"

"Human Female is recovering."

His eyes fell to the ground, closing a moment before he asked, weakly, "Recovering from what?"

The room was silent and he held the wall with his palms, head dropping slightly before he glanced at his arms and saw the marks of needle punctures and skin scrapings. Pounding again, he waited, feeling a growing nausea because they could mean anything. They could, literally, mean anything, and he waited, forehead an inch from the cold steel of this room – this blackened room with a cot meant for him and its toilet and its wash basin and its absolute four corners set seven feet apart from one another – for an answer.

"Recovering from what?" He asked again quietly.

"Rejection of anomalous cell cluster."

"Anomalous cell cluster," the Doctor repeated. "Cancerous?"

"Human Female is cancer free."

"Cancer free because of her body's rejection of the cells, or was she cancer free when we arrived?"

There was a hesitation, and the Doctor knew, possibly, he wasn't supposed to be privy to the information they were giving him. "Human Female arrived cancer free."

With a cold stab to his chest, he asked, "What was the anomalous cell cluster? Was it from the venom of the Hydropleece plant that bit her hand?"

"No," came the quick response.

And the Doctor knocked his head against the door, "Did you impregnate her?"

"An attempt at fetal incubation was attempted on Human Female."

"Oh, Clara," he moaned.

"Secondary attempt will begin…" the voice started.

"No!" He shouted, roughly this time, hands scouring the surface of the door for its edge and he pressed his fingers against the crease, the absolute crease of his prison cell – and he knew it was a cell – before repeating, "No, you leave her. You can have me, you can torture me, but you leave her. You return her to Earth and you leave her unharmed."

"Human Female cannot be returned to Earth; Human Female could not survive current atmospheric conditions of the planet," came the response.

Raising his head, the Doctor considered the answer. It was too far into the future. Too far for her to be left on her own planet in exchange for himself. "Bring her to me," he pleaded, "Bring her to me while she recovers."

"Negative," the voice told him flatly.

"Why not?"

"Time Lord must be contained."

Shaking his head, he asked incredulously, "Contained?"

"Time Lord will undergo thorough physiological testing at the request of the Council to determine the genetic integrity of the subject. Possible defects at a chromosomal level that would prohibit further experimentation."

He banged on the door and then shifted back, hands planting at his waist before lowering his head and asking pointedly, "And the purpose of this testing – further experimentation – would be? And since when does the Council make such requests?" His head came up and he glanced around, "I know who you are and what you do and none of this has been sanctioned by the Council – they would never agree to the treatment of an almost extinct species in this way, nor would they allow a Human of any percentage to be impregnated against her will for feta…" his voice trailed. "Fetal incubation of what?"

The room was silent.

"_Fetal incubation of what_?"

"Time Lord species has been classified as extinct. Human genetics have been found compatible to Time Lord genetics for procreation."

His knees buckled at the realization.

They intended to clone him using Clara.


	3. Chapter 3

_ The room at the hospital was for same-day procedures and he tinkered with the tools on a table beside him, glancing sideways at the woman still resting in the bed. The Doctor smiled when she sighed in her sleep, small grin tugging at her lips. He lifted a stethoscope, settling the prods in his ear before rolling towards her on the stool to lay the other end just underneath the collar of the gown they'd put her in, listening for a moment to the steady beating of her heart and he was hypnotized by it._

_ Strong and regular, a beat he'd heard just at his side for so long he'd lost track of the time and now it was tickling the inside of his mind lovingly and calmly. Just like she did. He closed his eyes, a relieved sigh escaping his lips at the thought that the plant could have taken her hand – could have taken her arm if she'd been reaching any further… it could have engulfed her head and taken her from him in one swift chomp because he'd been looking for something else and hadn't been watching her._

_ He should have warned her._

_ "Doctor?"_

_ The beat quickened and his hand came away abruptly, stethoscope dropping onto his chest as he looked up into her large dark eyes as she studied him, giving him a look of assurance – he'd done nothing wrong. It amazed him that she could have such a soothing effect on him, just as easily as she could elevate his pulse and send him into a state of panic at the thought of her in danger._

_ Gesturing at her, he teased, "Good heart. All cardiovascular processes functioning properly."_

_ "I feel groggy," she admitted._

_ He lifted a finger to the bag at her side, "Anti-venom, a bit of analgesic, fluids. Should be up and out in just a little while."_

_ She was nodding as he spoke, right hand coming up to rub at her temples with her middle finger and thumb and he shifted back and forth, one foot firmly against the bottom of the bed she was lying in. Clara let her head drop to the side to watch him before telling him, "You could explore; don't have to be holed up here on my account."_

_ With a smile, he leaned forward as he rolled up to the side of the bed and dropped an arm at her side to hold himself in place, "What would be the point if I couldn't show off for you?"_

_ Her cheeks burned red as she watched the rise of his eyebrow and the Doctor chuckled, blushing himself as he dropped his head slightly to stare at the floor._

* * *

Clara's eyes snapped open and she immediately rolled to her side and vomited, wincing as the contents of her stomach scorched her throat and splattered on the ground. What the hell had she eaten, she questioned, hand dropping over her midsection as she began to feel the dull pain there. She looked out over the edge of the bedding, and tried to sit up, shifting away from the porridge dripping off the sheets and onto the white plastic beneath her.

"Hello?" She called hoarsely.

There was no reply and she almost rolled her eyes, but she felt weakened. She felt disoriented. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she looked out over the whiteness of the room around her and she stretched out a hand, closing her eyes when it connected with a solid cold wall. It _was_ a room, she knew. She dropped her legs over the side of the bed, looking down at the bareness beneath the hem of the hospital gown.

Her skin seemed to have lost its color and she frowned, how long had she been there. She glanced at her fingernails, evenly kept with no traces of the usual biting she did at their edges. Perfectly manicured, actually, she realized, and the thought struck her with a pang of anxiety in her chest because someone had been tending to her and she knew it wasn't _him_.

"Hello?" Clara repeated, coughing roughly against the remnants of bile in her throat and she pushed off the bed, collapsing onto the ground underneath legs that felt like they hadn't been used in months. Clara touched them, breathing a sigh of relief because she could feel them this time, but the muscles were weakened and she struggled to lift herself up, grabbing hold of the bed beside her for leverage before bring herself to her shaky feet.

"Human Female shows definite signs of recovery," came a muffled voice.

"Excuse, what?" Clara replied.

"Please refrain from too much movement."

"Recovering from what?" Clara asked, immediately bringing her right hand up to examine.

The bite of the plant had healed and a light set of scars lined her skin. Almost faded. Almost gone. As if it had been ages ago that she'd been bitten. She felt her heart racing and immediately a voice boomed, "Human Female must remain calm."

"Remain calm?" Clara squeaked. "Where the hell am I? How long have I been here? _Where is the Doctor_?"

"Human Female requests the Time Lord."

"_The Doctor_," she hissed, "_His name is the Doctor_!"

"Human Female must return to an inclined state."

She shook her head, "Nope. Not happening."

"For the Human Female's health, she must return to an inclined state."

Clara leaned against the bed a moment before pushing off, taking several stumbling steps forward with her hands outstretched, until she collided with the opposite wall. Seven feet, she established. Seven feet across in either direction, judging from the bed, she figured. With a nod, at least understanding the space around her, Clara estimated the door should be there. The door should be somewhere in front of her, melted into the whiteness of the plastic.

Clawing at the door, she felt her nails slip over a ridge and she gasped with success, scratching at that edge, trying desperately to make some dent in the material, but it seemed to sway under the pressure of her fingers and bend back. She shouted, feeling faint, and something warm was trickling over her thighs and for a moment she thought she might have wet herself, but when she glanced down, she shouted.

"Back away from the door," an urgent voice called.

"I'm bleeding," she gasped. "I need help!" Clara stumbled backwards and her legs buckled, sending her sprawling to the ground with a cry of both surprise and pain. "What's happening?" She asked the first being that entered the room and bent to restrain her arms before another entered and they lifted her, carrying her back carefully to the bed. "What's happening to me?" she called in terror.

"Human Female must be sedated," the being to her left called out and she began to struggle as another set of aliens entered the room, one with a gun she found vaguely familiar. They'd used it before on her… to administer drugs.

"No," she told them adamantly, "No, you tell me what you did! _Tell me what you did to me_!"

They mumbled amongst each other and Clara tried to make out what they were saying, but it almost sounded like another language. Hissed and silent and before she could even begin to start putting their words together, she felt the cold rim of that gun pinch into the side of her neck, immediately numbing her muscles.

"Time Lord has escaped containment," she heard someone shout from just outside the door.

Clara smiled and whispered, "Good on you, Doctor. Good on…"

* * *

He wasn't certain about the layout of the ship, but he knew they were on a ship. Could feel the vibrations under his bare feet each time they slapped against the flat tiles that lined the hallway, and he knew it was large. His eyes scanned the doorways he passed, indiscernible from the wall on which they sat save for the small panel just beside the space he knew a door sat. If he knew which one she was inside, he would break through the door to get her, but he knew he wouldn't know that until he found some sort of main control room.

An information database he could hack.

He continued running, continued looking for any sort of clues outside of his general knack for the direction in which he was travelling – towards the Medusa Cascade, he could feel it in his very bones, but it was so far away. How far, he wasn't sure, but they were beyond the reaches of the Tardis back on Grasfth. Maybe if he could amplify the signal of the Sonic, if he could get his Sonic, he could call her to them.

His body burned against the effort it was taking to keep his momentum up and he knew he'd torn some sort of internal stitching they'd patched him up with and the fabric of his shirt scratched at punctures and pokes. The latest in their attempts to gather genetic materials – at least their attempts while he'd been conscious. He shuddered to think what they did while he was out; he'd heard stories. Stories of limbs removed and regrown, of bones taken and replaced, of splicing genetics and unfathomable pain simply to ask how tolerant a race was to it.

They were the part of space no one spoke of. The part of space even he refused to acknowledge because it was too horrific to contemplate and now he was imprisoned by them with, he knew, very little chance to escape. But if he could just get to the main controls. If he could just outwit them somehow. He could save all of the prisoners on this ship, take them away from the atrocities he knew this faction of the Kukof were capable of.

He would save Clara.

Blinking against the tears that were instant in his eyes, he inhaled sharply when he heard footsteps rushing towards him from behind and he could see them out of his peripheral, they were quickly gaining on him. His weakened limbs no match for the lean muscles that marched in his direction. And he neared an open door, swinging an arm wildly at the first face close enough to hit, he expelled his wrath on the being as he went into the room, slipping slightly on droplets of blood.

An innocent person, probably taken from a broken down ship, or some corner of the universe they'd gotten lost in – there for who knows how long, subjected to whatever inkling the Kukof thought of. What hadn't been done to this race of creature? What could they do that they hadn't done in so long? The Doctor growled as he attacked the next oncoming alien, knowing he'd spare one person one ounce of pain for one moment, but his heart fell away when he saw her, limp on the bed, blood bright and soaking the garments they'd put her in.

"Clara," he breathed, throwing an alien aside and taking another by the head to smash into a wall, ignoring his wails of pain as it fell away and he stumbled to the bed, hand coming up quickly to caress the pale features of her face. "Clara, please," he begged.

He could feel her pulse, weak.

"Time Lord must step away from Human Female; Human Female needs immediate medical attention to contain hemorrhaging."

"She wouldn't be bleeding if you hadn't… what did you do to her?" He bellowed, face turning red as he shifted his attention to those entering the room, guns – actual guns – raised and aimed at him.

"Time Lord must step away from Human Female."

"_Her name is Clara_!" He moved around the bed and slipped his arms underneath her neck and behind her knees and he brought her up against his chest, crying because it seemed as if the life had simply left her, "She's mine, _please_!"

But he knew they had no concept of companionship and he gripped her tightly, falling back against the wall, sliding down with her held firmly against him, when the laser pierced his chest, narrowly missing her. It missed his hearts, he knew, and he knew it'd been done on purpose. Hurt, not dying – no regeneration. Glancing down at her sleeping face – he prayed she was only sleeping now – he sighed an apology and let her go.


	4. Chapter 4

"Human Female will care for the Time Lord."

The sound was loud and felt right above her ear as Clara jerked away from it, raising a hand protectively, and she bumped something at her side, shifting away instinctively as she opened her eyes to the darkened room. Turning, she looked at the dark grey wall there before glancing up and realizing it wasn't a wall, it was the base of some sort of shelf and as she lifted herself up, she found herself at a loss for breath as she took in the Doctor's haggardly appearance, lying atop it. A bed, she knew now.

A hard box with a thin mattress and the man.

There was a bandage high on his chest and she struggled to stand, dropping onto the bedding beside him to touch his face, giving it several light taps while calling out to him to no avail. Clara felt her breath becoming ragged and she held back tears as she pulled the gauze away and looked at the red wound. It had been treated, some thin slivers of adhesive were strung in a web over the healing skin, and she glanced about.

"I can't care for him without new bandages. Tape. Anti-bacterial _something_."

"Human Female is not to move," came the quick response.

But she stood when the door opened, protectively shifting herself in front of the Doctor even as her legs ached to be relieved of the weight of her body. One being aimed a gun at her while another settled a box atop the sink and then they moved back out, the door closing and sealing into the wall and Clara went to pull off the top of the box, glancing inside and finding what she'd asked for and she moved back to the Doctor with several items clutched in her hands, steps labored before falling at his side.

"Not much of a nurse," she warned, "But I've dealt with quite a few scrapes in my time." She smiled down at his sleeping face, wishing he could give her a grin and a witty retort that would reassure her, but he simply dreamed, features frozen.

She set the soiled bandages aside and carefully rubbed a paste across the wound, watching it easily soak in and stretch, forming a lighter web that sealed over the reddened area before she applied a new bandage and rested her palm at his chest. Clara closed her eyes, feeling the heart underneath her fingertips beat softly and then she drifted her hand across and felt for the other, sighing in the understanding that he was ok. He was alive and he was with her.

Glancing around the room as she absently scratched at her thighs, urging the pins and needles to subside, Clara examined the sparse furnishings and understood it was some sort of prison cell. At least, it felt like a prison cell, but she knew she'd rather be there than inside one of the white rooms. The white rooms meant they'd done something to her and her hand came up to her abdomen, to the dull ache that still resonated there, and she could only imagine what they'd done.

She didn't want to imagine it.

Looking down at the sleeping man at her side, she knew she wanted to forget it all. Wanted to pretend they were back in the Tardis and he'd simply tripped over a part he'd left lying about and she was nursing a concussion, instead of what looked like a laser shot to the chest. Clara winced as she pulled herself up and climbed over him, nestling herself at his other side with her back to the wall, his arm limp along her body. She didn't care what he thought when he awoke.

She rested her cheek against his shoulder and laid her hand over his bare stomach, fingers slowly trailing back and forth over an inch of his skin. It might be romantic, except she was crying. Slowly at first, grateful to have his presence so close to her after what felt like an eternity of lost time, and then it was uncontrollable sobs that shook him next to her until she fell asleep.

* * *

_ She sat with her legs dangling over the edge of the hospital bed, wanting nothing more than to be handed her clothes and have the IV taken out of her hand as she played rock-paper-scissors with the Doctor for the thirtieth time, laughing when she beat him. Again. It seemed ridiculous, two grown-ups, hands clasped tightly in front of them, eyeing one another as though the outcome meant the other's sudden death, but she welcomed the distraction from the day. From feeling foolish for not knowing better and getting them stuck on this planet to begin with._

_ Of course, she knew, he was itching to get out amongst the people. He'd already listed enough stops for them to see to occupy months of time and sometimes she thought he wished they could. Some days she wanted to give into those urges – to travel with him on a full-time bases and get lost in the days without counting or considering she had to get back home. Clara laid her palm flat as he kept his balled and he grunted before laughing up at her._

_ "I'm beginning to think you're reading my mind," he offered._

_ She shrugged, "Maybe you're not as unpredictable as you think."_

_ He smiled._

_ Clara chuckled softly to herself, laying her hands against her thighs, looking down at the bandage on her left and the IV at her right and trying to decide which would be harder to explain when she got back. There was always some bump or bruise to explain away to friends or family. Her father, she knew, was beginning to suspect Clara might be involved in a damaging relationship and she knew this wouldn't help._

_ Eyes coming up, she watched the way the Doctor looked up at her from where he crouched in the wheel-able stool in front of her. His smile was infectious, but she didn't turn away, wanting nothing more than to reach out and fix the flop of hair at his brow and just as her fingers had gained a mind of their own and were rising to meet the soft locks, two odd aliens stepped into the room._

_ "Human Female is to come with us," one commanded._

_ The Doctor stood immediately and her hand fell away, brushing the sleeve of his coat lightly with a sigh of dissatisfaction before she looked up as he replied deftly, "The patient's name is Clara Oswald and she's awaiting discharge."_

_ There seemed to be a commotion outside, a rush of bodies away from the room and it made Clara's heart race – something she listened to on the monitor just beside the Doctor. The steady beeps had turned erratic and she could see the way his head turned just a tick, registering her fear before looking to her and giving her a reassuring smile._

_ The aliens remained though, and the one repeated, "Human Female is to come with us."_

_ "Got that the first time and I'm going to do a little repeating of my own – she's awaiting discharge."_

_ "Doctor?" Clara questioned, seeing some hint of recognition in his eyes and she didn't like the way his body was tensing, as though he were properly afraid – something she'd rarely seen._

_ One of the aliens shifted forward and the Doctor reached back quickly with a quiet, "I'm sorry," as he yanked roughly at the IV in her hand as she stifled a scream and before she knew what had happened, they were running down the hallway. Clara tried not to feel faint, seeing her bloodied hand clasped in his as he pulled her forward. _

_ "Doctor," she heard one of them repeat, "The Doctor is classified Time Lord. Time Lord must be contained for further analysis."_

_ "What are they?" Clara shouted._

_ He barely turned, but she could read the terror in his eyes, felt it send a shiver through her body and he turned a corner, trying to find somewhere in the building they could hide, but they were met with closed doors and frightened staff – staff who seemingly knew what was happening and were doing nothing to stop it._

_ "Doctor, what are they?"_

_ "Kukof," he shouted back, "And not the good ones."_

_ "What, I thought the hospital was run by them?"_

_ He raised a hand, "Really, now, now while running you want the explanation."_

_ Pulling her hand free, she slowed, and turned it over, pressing her bandaged hand to the opening left from the torn IV and she looked up at him, practically demanding an explanation because her body was ice cold with fear and her feet were burning from slapping the tiled ground barefoot._

_ Skidding to a stop, he turned, and as he approached, he explained quickly, "There are hospitals. There are doctors and nurses and then there are private practices – more dedicated professionals who want to help – and then there are clinics and smaller hole-in-the-wall facilities that you go to when you're desperate and have little money and nowhere else to turn to and then…" he trailed, "And then there's the black market. The scavengers and the pilfers who know no rules and have little to no regard for life and then…" he trailed again, eyes searching the halls, "And then there are these. A faction of a species that will tear you apart alive just to see how much it hurts, Clara."_

_ "Why…" she started._

_ "There are theories; theories they'd gone mad, but I don't think they're true. They're simply mad, mad enough to see a human of enough purity in a time when there are none left… and a Time Lord in a world where there are none… and they'd want to see us from the inside out."_

_ "They're horrible."_

_ "Yes, Clara," he nodded quickly, then turned to see them coming around a corner, guns raised, and he knew they'd probably be packed with tranquilizers, "Clara, run!"_

_ He took hold of her hand again and it stung as the skin and bones were crushed in his frightened grasp and he yanked her forward. Clara turned to see them raising the gun and she pumped her legs harder to keep up with the man ahead of her, but she felt the prick of something sharp at her shoulder and instantly her legs went numb and she fell away from him._

_ Glancing up, she watched him as he continued to move and she knew what he was thinking – he could get away and he could return to rescue her – but it didn't stop her from momentarily feeling abandoned and afraid. And then he turned, eyes reddened with tears before he looked from her to the aliens approaching and then back again and she met his eye._

_ "Go!" She mouthed, pointing and assuring him it would be fine._

_ But he didn't. He slowed and lost his balance, slipping to the floor before picking himself up again to rush back to her and she felt herself losing consciousness, listening to his footsteps pounding into the ground over the tiles before he released a strangled cry and she laid her head against the cold floor._


	5. Chapter 5

There were fingers just at her jaw and she took a sharp breath before looking up into his sad eyes and sighing with relief that it was only him. Clara's hand, resting comfortably at the waist of the trousers they'd given him, came up and curled over his body, pulling him tightly towards her in a hug and she felt the arm at her back drift up and his hand settled itself gripping her shoulder. She felt herself crying again, and she pressed a kiss into his skin, closing her eyes and feeling his lips meet the top of her head.

"I'm here," he told her softly.

"What is happening?" She asked in response, opening her eyes to look over his chest at the door she knew sat across from where they lay.

"I'm not sure," he offered.

Clara raised her head and pressed her elbow into the thin mattress to get a better look at the confusion on his face – he truly didn't know. The knowledge that this event had rendered him speechless was scaring her more than having a gun pointed in her face, or being dangled over a vat of red poison. Clara studied his features, waiting for him to meet her gaze and when he did, she trembled, because there was so much pain behind his eyes, so much uncertainty.

"How long have I been out?"

She shook her head, feeling the tear that rolled over her cheek and dropped onto his skin, slipping along the side of his body. "I don't know. I woke up in here maybe last night – I can't tell if it's night or day."

He raised his other arm and rubbed at his face before touching his chest lightly, hissing at the feel of the injury under the bandage as he turned to look at her and there was something there now – some knowledge that fell away as soon as he knew she'd recognized the expression. Something he didn't want to tell her, she was sure, and she nodded slowly.

"How long have we been here, Doctor?"

The question was simple and quiet and it hung between them for quite some time before he answered her honestly, "From what I can tell, from the time I've been conscious, at least five months."

"Five months," she repeated breathlessly, feeling her elbow shaky underneath her. "You said…" she began, swallowing hard, "You said they'd want to see us from the inside out – what… what have they done to us?" Gesturing at his bandages, "What did they do to you?"

"How much time have you experienced, Clara?"

He reached up to cup her cheek and Clara shifted away, pulling herself to sit up before she began to look down at her pale skin, fingers running trails over her arms. Glaring down at the puncture wounds and the bruising they'd left, remembering with sudden vividness, the blood and the pain in her gut, she sighed, "Days. I remember days, moments really. Just a few moments." She looked up at him, "I've been unconscious for months, what have they been doing to me?"

He started to shake his head, painfully sitting up with a hand to his chest to try and keep the skin from moving too much as he took one of her hands into his, looking at what he knew were needle punctures on her arm. Blood drawn, IV's inserted, and there was a patch of raised bumps, some sort of test to the surface of her skin. Slipping off the bed, the Doctor stood, unsteadily, and he urged her over until he stood with his palms at either side of her and he sighed before raising his eyes to hers and smiling.

It was meant to be reassuring, but he knew what they'd been doing to her and he knew, sadly, it hadn't been working and he was frightened of the permanent damage they could be doing to her. Because of what he was. He lifted his hands to her face, shifting it gently so he could try the best he could to check her pupils, see the scrapes inside of her nose from possibly oxygen lines, and he could see the redness at the back of her throat, sore from intubation. He dropped his hands to the back of her neck and rubbed at it gently, feeling for any damage before shifting over her shoulders and down to her elbows and he frowned because she was so still.

"I'm going to…" he gestured at her, looking away before telling her, "Lie down."

Clara's lip trembled slightly as she shifted and she glanced up at him as he kneaded at her stomach, feeling for her organs – their placement and size and waiting for any reaction from her, but she simply allowed two silent tears to roll over each temple as she watched his face. She was studying the pain darkening his features and the way his hand laid calmly at her navel, almost refusing to shift downward.

"Clara…" he started.

She shook her head and stared at the ceiling, "Just…" she started, looking up at him. Silently begging him to complete the awkward examination because she'd rather be embarrassed than not know.

His hand drifted downward and he palpated her lower abdomen gently, watching her grimace slightly and he coughed a cry, shifting away from her and planting his hands on the bed. Clara shook her head again and she lifted her knees, pressing her feet to the bed and the Doctor turned when her gown easily fell back, revealing her naked body underneath.

"Doctor," she pleaded, "I know you don't… I won't… I need to know what they did because I know they did something – I can feel that they did something."

He watched the way her eyes sat wide and terrified as they waited and he nodded slowly, hand coming up to her hip to nudge her so she turned slightly, more towards himself and the very dim light. Taking a breath, he looked Clara over, hands reluctantly spreading her thighs, and told her clinically, "No bruising, no sign of forced entry…"

"I'm not a house," she tried to tease to lighten the mood, but they were both breathing through unshed tears.

"Clara, they didn't rape you," he declared, hands slipping up towards her knees to bring them down and curl the fabric back over her. "Unfortunately if they did, they wouldn't have done it while you were unconscious – they would have wanted to gauge the psychological reaction of the action and they would have wanted the physical pain of it to register truthfully."

He helped her sit up and she fell against him, body shaking lightly against his before asking, "What kind of monsters are these?"

"They're scientists," he replied quietly. "With no conscience and no boundaries. Only questions and a thirst for answers."

Clara dropped one hand into her lap, cradling her stomach before taking several short breaths, "What did they do to me?"

"Clara, you're fine," he assured.

She shook her head, "I could see it on your face," she began calmly, then rose up to look at him to finish, "Don't think I don't know you well enough to know when you're hiding something from me. What did they do?"

The Doctor licked at his lips and he shook his head, starting quietly, "I don't…"

"I woke up, stomach in a knot, nauseated beyond belief, and I was bleeding," she glanced down. "I was bleeding, I remember it."

He turned away and nodded, "You miscarried."

Clara shook her head, body visibly quivering now as she squeaked, "I miscarried what?"

Dropping his head down against hers gently, he nudged her forehead with his own and closed his eyes while he explained, "You're so pure – and to them you're the perfect incubator. When a scientist with no moral lines comes across an extinct creature, their first inclination is to recreate it, to repopulate the species."

She was nodding slowly, then, hands coming up to touch the bandages at his chest, "They want to clone me using me?" Clara shook her head and then laughed, "It's the future, don't they have machines for that? Growing babies in aquariums like in movies?"

He tried to chuckle, but his heart was breaking because it'd been five months. He knew chances were, they'd gone through the process on her several times with no success. "Once there's attainment of duplication, yes, mass cloning can begin, but until then, it's not _cost-effective_," he muttered.

"So they want me to carry a baby, a version of me, to term and if it lives, they'll use it as a template?"

He nodded slowly, "Except you wouldn't be carrying a version of yourself," he dropped his head away from hers and looked guiltily back up at her, "You're the incubator; I'm the extinct species."

Clara inhaled slowly, understanding dawning on her as she watched him stare at the wall to her right and she lifted her hands to his shoulders, slipping them up over his back and bringing him closer to hug him with a simple, "Don't blame yourself."

"Clara, we've been here for months," he whimpered at her ear, "Months they've been doing this to you and months you've been suffering."

She nodded, gripping him tighter, "And look, they've given up."

He dropped his head down onto her shoulder before shifting back from her with a shake of his head as he informed her, "They haven't given up, Clara. They've chosen a new tactic."

"New tactic?" She questioned curiously.

"They're giving your body a rest; giving mine a rest and when they deem us both fit to be subjected to the torment again, they'll take us both back," he glanced around. "I've been in this room before. Days at a time while they wait for me to regain consciousness, or feeling in a limb, or heal from the cuts and the …"

Clara's face crumpled as she asked roughly, "Why torture you? They think you extinct; shouldn't they treat you with care?"

"There hadn't been a Time Lord around to study for so long, and so little is really known of our species that the temptation is too high to let me go unscathed." He took a breath. "They want to study me so that when they use me to re-create my race, they'll know how to care for that race – or destroy it."

She nodded slowly. "What happens to us when they've succeeded?"

He shook his head.

"What happens to us, Doctor?" She demanded now.

"We die," he supplied quietly. "There can be no witnesses, only the success."


	6. Chapter 6

Clara's hands dropped to his chest and she began to peel away the bandages there as he watched her, sitting up in the bed. She reached out for the new bandages and webbing she'd left at the foot of the bed and she smeared more goop across the wound and then taped a new strip of gauze across his chest, hands laying calmly at either side of the bandage before she asked, "How did this happen?"

He smiled, "I tried to save you."

"Don't do that again," she warned.

He took her hands in his and settled them on her lap together, staring down at the fingers that curled around his, seeking comfort he couldn't provide. They'd be tortured and they'd be used and when they were done, they'd be discarded. It's what the Kukof did and he should have known better than to land on that planet. He should have left as soon as he knew the Council ran the facility – they always had a knack for _losing_ patients – but he'd been distracted. He'd lied to her about the venom, it was incredibly toxic and it had stopped her heart for just a moment in the lobby and that moment was all it took for him to disregard the cautious warning in his mind because he knew he couldn't leave until she could leave of her own accord.

And now they were stuck on this ship, destined to die anyways.

He lifted his chin and touched his lips to hers gently, with no more intent than knowing she was there with him and he sighed against her as he lowered his head again. Clara nudged him slightly, nose delicately brushing his and he tilted into her as she released a breathe against his teeth before dropping her head onto his shoulder and bringing her arms up around him, fingers clutching his bare back tightly. He wrapped his own arms around her, stroking at her hair, trying to sooth her as she began to cry.

The Doctor held her until she slipped back asleep and he laid her down, shifting her garment over her legs as best he could before going towards the door and checking the edges. Then he looked to the box they'd left inside the room and studied the contents. They'd given them simple necessities to dress his wound. Nothing of use, not even the pliable anti-biotic that was fusing his skin together as he stood examining its elasticity and chemical composition through smell and a taste to the tip of the tongue that made him spit forcefully and recoil.

Clara sighed and he set the contents of the box back down, drifting towards her and shifting her hair behind her ear. He rubbed at his head and paced the room, knowing he shouldn't exhaust his energies with impatience, but he couldn't stand still and it wasn't in his nature to sleep. Humans – Clara – needed sleep; Time Lords could catch an occasional hour or so every other day and function just fine.

Maybe it was one of those things that caused her body to reject the fetuses. It required too much of her that she wasn't able to give, being purely human. A pure Time Lord baby inside of a human body wouldn't survive and he knew the Kukof had figured that out and, as he watched her sleep, he wondered what their next plan of attack was. Or had they given up entirely, waiting until they passed through unregulated space to dump their bodies into the atmosphere. Though he knew the truth of it – they would only dump her.

If only he had the Tardis, he considered.

Materialize inside of this room. Get Clara safely inside. Find a way to get everyone off this ship – or at least get some authorities involved. It always baffled him that they existed at all, roaming the galaxies kidnapping unsuspecting victims and no one ever caught up. _No one_. As if this were some ghost ship that never existed and if they ever managed to escape, no one would believe they had because… it couldn't be possible.

"Still pacing?" Clara asked weakly from where she lay.

The Doctor smiled down at her and shrugged, "Not much else to do."

She went red in the cheeks and he straightened at the unexpected thoughts in his mind before turning away from her as she sighed. Clara shifted to sit up, pressing her back against the wall and letting her legs lay slack against the mattress, feet barely able to reach the other side. "What if we escape…" she began slowly and he turned to try and give her a positive smile and a hopeful nod, but she was staring down at her stomach sadly, "And I'm too damaged from what they did to have children of my own?"

His heart dropped away as she looked up at him, guilt over his former companion clouding his vision with unshed tears. And he shook his head, "Won't happen."

"You can't possibly…"

"We'll escape and you'll be fine," he assured.

"But what if…"

He raised a hand to point at her and repeat, "We'll escape and you'll be fine."

She managed to nod, but her hands were rubbing absently at her abdomen as she began to study the room around herself, also trying to figure out some way to get out before she inched towards the edge, "I have to…" she pointed to the toilet.

With a nod, he turned as she moved to the odd circular feature and he smiled when she let out a surprised yelp as a fountain bubbled up under her, offering a quick, "No toilet paper."

"Oh," she uttered before awkwardly moving towards him to tap him on the back before glancing at the box in front of him, "Gauze."

"Gauze," he repeated, looking down and then back at the toilet. "They wouldn't let us sit in our own excrement."

Clara managed a confused grunt before he picked up a wad of gauze and moved to the toilet with it, kneeling next to the bowl and then smiling at it. "What are you…" she started.

"Clogged toilet," he pointed. "They'll open the door, we'll fight our way out…"

"Time Lord must step away from the toilet."

He frowned and stepped back towards the bed, raising a hand to Clara as she came to his side and frowned, "It was a good idea," she offered as the doors opened and the boxes were taken out by aliens with guns trained on each of them.

"We did learn something though," he told her quietly.

"What's that?" She asked sideways.

"They're _actively_ watching us."

* * *

It felt like days passed and nothing happened and Clara knew she should have found some comfort in it, but she only found fear. What were they waiting for? The Doctor claimed he didn't know, but she could see the odd look of uncertainty he harbored every time she asked – because he had some idea that he wasn't telling her. Of course he would, she smiled, watching him sigh up at the ceiling before turning to grin at her. And suddenly, like a wave crashing into a wall, the notion swelled up inside of her,

"I _lost_ you."

Clara looked away when he turned, stopping his pacing of the room to look at her and he rushed to her, hands at her ankles as she touched her stomach and then brought her hands to her face to conceal the redness and the tears as she broke down. "Clara," he called gently, fingers kneading at her calves. "Clara, I'm right here."

Her hands fell away and she elaborated, "I _was_ pregnant. I was _pregnant_." She shook her head, "I had you and I lost you; _how many times_ did I lose you? I _killed_ you because we're not compatible. You and I, we're not _compatible_."

She felt her chest crushing in on her heart as he climbed onto the bed and pulled her into a hug, leaning into the wall beside her, trying his best to sooth her with strokes of her long hair and rubs on her shoulder. The Doctor wasn't accustomed to this; he was used to adventure – used to the happy ending, the final solution. Not so much the heartache of others, despite his own tenure with it. He shushed gently into her hair as she cried, her fingers now curled at his chest, knuckles pressing shakily into his bare skin warmly.

"It's not that we're _not_ compatible," he whispered with a small laugh, "Clara, it's not that at all. It's the exact opposite of that." He dropped a kiss to her forehead as she raised her eyes to look at him, shaking her head, not understanding, and he smiled, "You and I – Human and Gallifreyan – are perfectly compatible."

"Then why?" Clara asked weakly.

And he knew she wanted the answers that the beings watching them wanted, but she'd sought them for entirely different reasons – Clara saw each rejected fetus as a baby, as a conceived version of him that she could cradle in her arms. Clara saw the human possibility, not the profitability. And he smiled because he had no doubt Clara would have loved each of those babies with all of her heart and she would have made them better men than he could ever dream of being.

"Because what they're trying to achieve isn't a blending, equal parts my _stubborn_ _arrogance_ and your…" he laughed before finishing, "_Humanity_." The Doctor touched her chin with a knuckle, and then cupped her cheek in his palm as she waited. "It isn't the perfect compatibility of two parents creating a new life; it was the artificiality of scientific rigor and expected outcomes. That's not how miracles happen, Clara. _Love_, love is how miracles happen."

He wiped at her tears with his thumb and nodded down at her while she stared up at him and he could read it in her eyes – she didn't have to say a single word – how much she did love him. And that was her heartache, he realized. Clara hadn't been upset because she'd lost a baby; Clara had been upset because she'd lost what she'd perceived to be _his_ baby and the part of her mind that had been keeping the thought at bay for the past few days as she watched him pace while she chewed at her nails finally relented, flooding her with unexpected sorrow.

Giving his lips a small lick, he bent down to meet hers, sighing when her fingers unfurled and fanned out gently over his chest, curving around him as he deepened the kiss. His fingers drifted into her hair and he shifted towards her and leading her down onto the bed, carefully spreading himself over her, knee securely between her thighs as they gasped against each other, desperate for another tug of the lip or swirl of the tongue and then he pulled himself away, brow wrinkling as he stared down at her.

"We shouldn't," he breathed, "_We shouldn't_," he repeated. "Clara," he pleaded.

But she was shaking her head, frown trembling on her lips as she raised a leg to give him a measured stroke and she slipped her palms over his shoulders. "They're taking everything away," she told him, shaking her head again, "I need to feel something that isn't darkness."

"Clara," he moaned, arousal growing harder with every shift of her skin against him through the thin layer of fabric and he ducked his head to tell her, "This could be what they want."

"I don't care." She kissed at his neck and he dropped heavily onto her with a hungry groan. "Just once," she whispered, nodding her forehead against his temple, "You know as well as I do… the odds."

He calculated them in his mind, based on the time they'd been there, but he honestly didn't. They could have done anything to her and the thought frightened him as he reluctantly – but greedily – began to grind himself against her as her legs opened to accommodate him. Reaching down to seize himself roughly through the flap at the front of his trousers, his knuckles grazed her wetness and he choked on a cry of pleasure.

"Please, Doctor," Clara pleaded, "Please just let me lose myself this one time."

Her arms curled over his neck and he could hear her crying, wanting to forget where they were and he succumbed to giving her that one irrational action to blind them from their circumstances for a few moments. Adjusting over her, he guided himself into her slowly, listening to the exhale she released against his ear and shuddering as he filled her completely, settling against her as she tightened her legs against his waist on either side.

Pushing aside the knowledge that they were watching, the certainty that this would give them reason to take her again, the terror that he was absolutely right in thinking making love to her would create the perfect storm in which to conceive a child, the Doctor concentrated on Clara. The way she warmly hugged to his length as he began thrusting into her. The way she tasted his jaw and then caught his lips, sucking him to her to kiss. The way she smelled of flowers despite everything.

The Doctor rocked into her, bodies barely separating, and he forgot the prison cell. He forgot the experiments and the aliens and the anxiety that had been churning in his stomach. He closed his eyes and moved his mouth to her neck, suckling lightly as her feet found his backside and she arched herself into him, her body yearning for his strokes to strike deeper and deeper until she cried out and he met her there, losing himself completely in her.


	7. Chapter 7

Clara was curled up in a ball against his chest sleeping soundly when he woke with a start. He smiled down at her, eyes closed, face calm, and he sighed because she seemed content. She'd convinced herself in the perceived weeks they'd been in that room, that they'd been simply forgotten, exhausted, and left to rot in the cell and as far as she was concerned, it was better than the alternatives – experimentation, or death. Running a hand over her hair, he sighed, glancing up at the space in front of the door where two pots of sludge sat.

At least they were still feeding them, he thought with a sigh. He inched up, slipping his arm out from underneath her head to go examine the food. They were labeled: Human Female, and Time Lord, and he pressed his lips together tightly to look around the room. Without the Sonic, there was really no clear way for him to discern where the camera was or how they were watching them, but he knew if he tried to eat her food or she tried to eat his, they were chastised.

With a half grin at her sleeping form, he made his way back to the bed and just as he approached it, a beam shot down from the ceiling. He jumped back in shock and watched it extend into a line of light that travelled slowly over her body, creating a hologram of her cardiovascular system in red just above her. He watched as her heart pumped and the blood flowed through her body and then it stripped away, leaving a small blotch at her midsection and he inched closer.

"The Time Lord's transmission signal has crossed," he heard someone grumble. "Shut down the holographic link."

The small blotch was familiar and his breath caught in his throat as he realized he was looking at a three week old fetus, its two small hearts just starting to flutter strongly within its chest cavity. The bowls clattered to the ground and he reached forward, but the image of Clara lying in bed dissolved, as did his ability to move. His eyes opened and he stared up at the bright light shining in his face and the beings now descending on him, muttering questions in a language the Doctor didn't understand.

"The transmission signal crossed," he breathed, throat constricting from lack of use, as he struggled against restraints that rubbed his skin raw. "What does that mean? What…" he felt a pinprick at his neck and his body relaxed slightly, falling calmly against the table.

One of his captors bent and told him plainly, "The hologram being projected into your mind crossed with the examination of the Human Female's status, producing an anomalous image."

He shook his head weakly, "She's pregnant."

It nodded. "Your hypothesis that hybridization between Human and Gallifreyan genetics could produce viable offspring within the Human Female proved correct."

Eyes closing, he moaned, "We should never have…"

But it interrupted, "You never did. The variables in a natural conception were far greater than we could risk, thus a linked channel was opened between two holographic projections to create the illusion of cohabitation while hormones were introduced to extract genetic materials and they were successfully combined in our laboratories. The first implanted embryo took hold and has been the most successful chance for reintroduction of Time Lord species."

"Will her hologram continue?" He asked, knowing that at least she'd be in peace, some dream version of him there to comfort her.

But the answer came bluntly, "No, all holographic interfaces have been terminated; the time shall remain a faint memory in her subconscious, much like a dream."

His heart broke as he lay silent on the table, absorbing the information, knowing Clara was in another room somewhere, probably sedated, being scanned and prodded. If they decided the fetus was viable, they would accelerate her pregnancy; they would do irreparable damage to her, and he was powerless to stop it.

_The Doctor was powerless_.

And then his table was flipped and he was upright, staring in shock at four beings who bustled about carrying syringes and tools he was vaguely familiar with and he was rolled towards a window. Closing his eyes a moment, he muttered, "Double sided." They'd been watching the whole time through the walls themselves.

Chancing to look through, he could see her lying flat on a white table, sedated and breathing steadily as the beings in the room took notes on the floating hologram of their baby. And he absolutely knew it was their baby – not a clone, but a small hybrid with two beating hearts they'd nestled inside of Clara. Swallowing roughly, he could feel the warm tears that fell over his cheeks because not only would Clara be subjected to this torture for months; their child would become their experiment as well.

* * *

There was a baby gurgling nearby and Clara swallowed roughly as she opened her eyes to see the infant laid on its back just in front of her, naked arms and legs waving slightly as it made small popping sounds with its mouth. She edged up and frowned. It was nearly new born and incredibly small and she eyed the room, vision seeming to snap in and out of focus, but she couldn't be absolutely sure, until she focused on the child.

"Human Female will provide comfort."

Clara glanced up and around the room in confusion before her eyes fell back on the girl. It was a little girl with a dusting of brown hair and thin sad lips, baby blue eyes that had yet to settle on their final color because she was so new. So very new, Clara knew as she sat up and stared down at her. Taking a pained breath, she reached out and slipped her fingers underneath the child's neck, hearing her make a sound of protest against the coolness of her skin before she rounded her palm underneath the girl's backside and lifted her up, laying her down against her chest, head bobbing just beneath her collar.

"She can't be like this," Clara shouted, "She needs warmth."

"Human Female will provide warmth."

Clara shook her head incredulously, "No, she needs clothes! A blanket! Something."

"Human Female will provide warmth."

With a frown, Clara sighed at the repeated words and glanced around the room knowing if she tried to argue it again, they would just tell her again that it was her responsibility. Her _responsibility_, she huffed, looking over at the baby staring at her. Closing her eyes, she shook her head and lifted the oversized collar of the gown she'd been put in and she dropped the small body inside, laid flush against her chest, cool feet pressing into her breasts as she cupped her hand underneath her backside.

Rubbing at her back through her gown, Clara glanced around the room again. She needed nappies, some sort of formula, anything and she wondered, glancing down at the infant whose eyes were drifting shut, how long before they would come in to take her back? Why had they brought her in to begin with? The thought tickling the back of her mind burned her eyes with unshed tears while she listened to the soft breathing, warm on her collar bone as she dropped her down slightly, so just the top of the child's head emerged from the gown.

"Where did this baby come from?" Clara questioned.

"Successful hybridization."

The response was loud and abrupt and Clara frowned, glancing down at the tiny head before she asked, "But she looks human – is her mother aboard? She should be with her mother."

"The Human Time Lord's mother is present."

"Human Time Lord?" Clara repeated with a shake of her head before realization dawned on her and she inhaled sharply, "I'm the mother." She glanced down at the infant now squirming, first moans of her crying wetting her chest, "I'm the mother," she whispered before looking up, "No, that's not possible. _That's not possible_." The little girl began to cry at her chest and Clara shook her head, tears finding her eyes.

"Human Female will nurture the child."

"No, it's not possible," she declared.

"Human Female will nurture the child."

And she understood because the small lips that cried also searched, and eventually found, her left breast, latching on instinctively as Clara jerked slightly. But as much as she wanted to believe it wasn't possible, it was. Hungrily, the girl was suckling from her and Clara knew, glancing down into the gap in her gown, that she was feeding her readily. Clara felt the beginnings of a sob as she concentrated on the feel of the child at her chest, wishing she could feel more nurturing than violated in that moment.

Letting out a small gasp of pain, she slipped an arm in through the sleeve of the gown to try and adjust the girl against her, curling her hand around the smooth skin of her back so that she cradled over her wrist, tiny feet resting just at the crook of her elbow. Hybridization. Human Time Lord.

"Oh," she cried softly, "You're his daughter… you're _our_ daughter."

The words stung her heart, but she found herself unable to look away, tears streaming over her cheeks over the injustice of it. She blinked her eyes shut tightly, hating herself for not having fought harder when they'd taken her away. She couldn't even recall when they'd come. There was a faint memory of holding him, of loving him, but it felt distant and hard to hold on to.

She'd been sedated for months, she understood. She'd been sedated for months before. Clara stared down at the child – how long had they been on board this ship, she'd lost track, but she knew it had to have been a year – probably longer. As much as she wanted to know, she was terrified to find out, and now she felt a hollow feeling in her chest as she watched the little girl lazily working her mouth over her, growing full and tired.

"What will you do to her?" Clara asked.

"Human Time Lord will be studied for viability."

"Viability!" Clara shouted, receiving a small jerk of surprise from the child in her arms, "She's a baby, she should be taken somewhere safe."

They didn't answer her and she frowned, inching backwards until her back pressed up against a wall, shifting the child when she began to cry, mouth coming free from her. Clara lifted her upright and patted her on the back gently, listening to the hiccups she released at her ear before a small burp rumbled up and she laughed, lost in that small innocent sound.

"Hey," she cooed, "That was very unlady-like."

The child stared, unfocused, eyelids drooping, and Clara continued to pat at her back for a few moments more, eliciting another gurgle of a burp before she settled her back down in the space between her chest and the knees she brought up. She frowned, knowing she'd probably be wet up on soon and she closed her eyes before glancing around the room.

"Neither of us will be viable if I don't get _some_ _supplies_."

"Supplies will be delivered momentarily. Human Female is not to move."

For a moment she considered standing, readying herself to charge, but she could hear the soft breathing from inside of her gown. She wouldn't risk the child. Knowing the girl might be the only thing left of the Doctor; Clara would remain glued to her spot on the floor as they opened the door at the opposite end and dropped two boxes inside the room before departing. And Clara understood looking down at her daughter: they had her trapped.


	8. Chapter 8

Clara watched the baby who lay on her back and stared back up at her. She smiled at the girl, a finger coming out to run over her bare chest as she squirmed, left corner of her mouth lifting into a small grin that displayed one deep dimple. The baby released a small grunt and then a squeak and Clara laughed quietly, lifting her hand to rub a knuckle at her eye to stop her tear.

"Daddy would know what you're saying, Li…" she stopped herself because she'd sworn she wouldn't name her – she wouldn't allow herself the attachment – but she knew it was no use.

In the weeks they'd been left in that room, she'd formed a bond to her unlike anything Clara had ever experienced in life. The baby lying before her was her daughter. Her beautiful little girl whose arms swung in small circles at her sides as her legs pumped when she was excited; who smiled easily and squealed when she was tickled; who was always watching her quietly and lovingly when she woke. Her beautiful little girl with her dark hair and wide eyes painted green by her father's will.

"Lily," she breathed, sniffling.

She'd said the name before, accidentally, before damning herself. And now she stared up around the room, trying in vain to find the source of their surveillance as she inched the child closer to her when she began to complain. Clara tucked a hand under Lily and sat up with her in her arms, cooing down at her as she undid the buttons on her shirt to offer her a breast and she sighed, dropping the shirt over her as she continued to look around.

They didn't speak to her often. They simply watched. And her heart was in a constant state of panic over what they were watching for – what moment in her daughter's life were they waiting for to take her. Because Clara was absolutely sure they would take the girl. So when the doors opened suddenly, Clara raised her other hand to cradle the girl as she struggled to stand, and she found herself staring in shock at the Doctor.

"Hello, Clara," he told her calmly.

Her chest was rising and falling quickly, looking him over in confusion because he was back in his suit, grey waistcoat sitting comfortably at his chest; purple tweed hanging smoothly from his body. The Doctor had his hands clasped behind his back and she shook her head at him, wondering if this was some sort of trick. Was he some hallucination? Had they sedated her again? Was this all some dream?

Her eyes fell to her daughter, nursing peacefully, and she drifted a hand over her as she pleaded quietly, feeling tears, "Please, let this be real."

The words got caught in her throat because she never imagined she'd want this to be real. But she didn't want the days she'd spent with the girl to be imagined; didn't want the man approaching her to be a hologram projected into her mind. Clara sobbed because she wanted to know it was real and suddenly she realized there was no way she could know. She listened to his footsteps as she studied her daughter's body with a tentative hand, memorizing her small arms and chubby feet.

She counted her toes for the thousandth time.

"Clara," the Doctor called as he came to stand before her, "This is real; this is all real."

Glancing up, she began to shake her head, but he broke into a wide smile as he cupped her cheek in his hand and looked down at the baby between them. Shifting her shirt aside, he watched her nurse the child, other hand coming to his mouth as he stifled a cry. Clara watched his eyes water over as his fingers now hovered over the child, almost as if he were afraid to touch her and somewhere deep inside she understood – if this were real, as far as she knew, the Doctor was seeing his daughter for the first time. He was seeing their daughter for the first time and despite the horrors they'd been through, he was in awe of the sight of her.

"Lily," he called, bottom lip quivering as one finger trailed over her arm and Clara felt the child sigh against her skin. "My Lily," he whispered.

Eyes roaming over his face, she dared to ask, "How do you know her name?"

He raised an arm without taking his eyes off the child and supplied, "The wall, it's double sided – they've been watching you through it." Then he looked up at her, "We've been watching you through it."

"We," she repeated on a breath.

His brow came together in a knot of frustration as he shifted to block their view of her as he touched the baby girl's cheek, unlatching to look up at the man watching her. "Cooperation has, unfortunately, kept us all safe."

"Cooperation?" Clara hissed, "You've been helping them?"

He turned his gaze to her and she could see the anger in his eyes readily as he explained, "They don't know how to care for a human child any more than they do one from Gallifrey – do you really think either of you would still be alive if someone hadn't told them what nutrients you needed during pregnancy? Or that she'd flourish better with her mother's milk after birth than some artificial concoction?"

Lily whined and Clara raised her to her shoulder, patting her back gently as she asked, "How long have you been watching us?"

Features softening, he looked over the girl resting her head on Clara's collar bone, body giving a small shake with every light smack from Clara's hand until she released a burp, followed by a hiccup. The Doctor watched Clara turn her head, lips meeting the forehead there as she began to sway slightly and he pressed his lips together tightly because he'd been watching since the day he'd witnessed those two small hearts begin.

"That's not important," he allowed.

She only nodded, chin shifting the child's head as she did. "It's important to me," Clara explained.

* * *

_ "You want that baby to survive, you'll need my help."_

_ The words were barely audible, even to his own ears, but he hoped they'd been enough to pique the interest of the beings who stood around him. And they were. Just enough to get two to approach him with curious glances on their vague faces as they waited, obviously wanting to be persuaded and the Doctor considered them, steeling himself against the pain he felt in his hearts to look away from Clara and up into those large eyes._

_ "I would suppose you've never treated a human; you've already discussed my status as a species – so wouldn't it do you good to listen to me now? I need to see the feeding regiment you've been keeping her on, she's possibly malnourished, which will either lead to defects in the child or another prematurely terminated pregnancy."_

_ He waited, swallowing roughly and trying to keep his features like stone so they couldn't read the fear he felt over the small whimper he heard come from behind the window. They'd taken the hologram away; left her to her nightmares._

_ "The Time Lord has knowledge of the Human species?" He nodded. "What would the Time Lord suggest for the Human Female?"_

_ "Undo my restraints, I need to see records – what you've been giving her, how much you've been administering and on what schedule," he demanded, nose flaring when she cried out against whatever she was imagining – or against whatever they were doing to her._

_ The aliens in front of him exchanged a glance and then one nodded slowly and the clamps at his wrists and ankles came off in a snap and he stumbled forward, falling against the glassy material to look in on them encapsulating the majority of her body within a white plastic bubble. A machine to run regular scans; a machine to study her and their baby. He was handed a screen and he read quickly, finger sliding through the information as he paced, shaking his head._

_ "She's not getting enough," he muttered, hand coming up to rub at his brow. He clicked on the tablet and began altering their instructions, "Humans need…" he started, letting his thoughts remain in his mind, "No," he shook his head at the medications they planned to give her, "You'll kill her with this." Then he raised his head, "Is this what you've had her on?" They looked between one another again and he roared, "You're killing her, it's no wonder she's miscarried," he looked down and then squeezed the bridge of his nose, "Three times."_

_ One of the beings raised a hand and pushed the tablet towards him, uttering plainly, "Fix the calculations, Time Lord. Should you fail, the council has approved more invasive procedures."_

_ Letting his hand fall away, he passed a glance back through the window at Clara and he nodded slowly, poking at the screen and swiping away the names of drugs, replacing them with safer ones and feeling his chest constricting because between what they'd done and what they were planning on doing, her hologram in his mind had been right – she would never be able to have children again. This was her one chance and, he knew, they would take it away from her._

_ "The acceleration has consequences," he muttered, "Detrimental to her…"_

_ "The Human will be discarded after incubation period and removal of Human Time Lord hybrid child."_

_ His head came up quickly, "Discarded?"_

_ "We've extracted all necessary genetic material from the Human Female for duplication; her survival is of no consequence."_

_ "No consequence?" The Doctor shouted, "She's human, of a level of purity this universe will never see again…"_

_ "The survival of the Human species in pure form is of no concern to the Council."_

_ "It's of concern to me," he bellowed._

_ They eyed him. "Your concern will ensure the survival of the fetus."_

_ "Her survival will ensure the survival of the baby she carries."_

_ "The Time Lord wishes to bargain for her life," came the slow reply._

_ He bowed his head._

* * *

The Doctor inched closer to Clara and he touched Lily's head gently, telling her quietly, "She's almost two months old." His eyes watered slightly as he slid his hands around the small body, pulling her up to his arms as Clara watched, crossing her own arms at her chest, feeling naked and empty without the girl. Lily stared up at him a moment, trying to lift her head to get a better look and she smiled.

Clara laughed because the girl genuinely smiled at her father.

"When can we go home?" Clara chanced to whisper.

His lips dropped into a frown and Clara felt her heart go cold as he tore his eyes away from the girl he was holding to look at the woman who begged him for hope and he bit his lip, debating how much of the truth to give her – how much could he divulge without breaking his vows to the beings he knew were observing them keenly – and he admitted, "They want to make sure she's old enough to be weaned."

"Weaned of me," Clara understood and her tears were instant as she reached for her daughter, taking her from resistant arms as she asked, "Will they kill me quickly?"

The Doctor's hands were gripped at a space in front of his chest as he tried to control the trembling of his bottom lip, telling her honestly, "They aren't going to kill you, Clara."

At that, her dark gaze met his and while she knew there was something wrong – she could see it just behind the red eyes and the way his jaw clenched and unclenched just as his fingers did – she asked plainly, "What are they going to do to me?" Then she looked to their daughter, now drifting to sleep in her arms, "What are they going to do to her?"

"She'll be safe," the Doctor assured. "I'll keep her safe."

The doors opened swiftly and a voice barked, "The Time Lord will exit the room."

And she watched in shock as he turned and went.


	9. Chapter 9

_ Clara was crying out in agony as she slept and the Doctor struggled against the beings restraining him as he shouted out at them, "You have to slow the acceleration! Her body isn't capable of handling so much this quickly! You're going to kill them!"_

_ He could see her through the window, tears rolling over her temples and splashing into her hair as she took several long breaths and he could see the red projection of the fetus floating just above her capsule. They'd taken her from three weeks to six months in a span of days and she'd hit her physical limit on the changes. He argued against it, giving them the low statistics on her surviving the process, and now they seemed concerned that he'd been telling the truth._

_ They'd stopped the progress and were in the room on his command administering pain medication as he was released to press his hands to the glass. The Doctor watched as her chest heaved and he could hear the quick beeping from a monitor at her side, saw the blood pressure drop a notch and he laid his head against the cool surface in front of him, eyes closed, feeling a small flash of relief._

_ "The Time Lord's recommendation?" Came the unexpected question._

_ Turning, he shook his head at the alien that waited and then he raised a hand, "Just let her be; let nature take its course. The baby is healthy; you haven't damaged it yet – let it be."_

_ "It is female," the being told him. "She is your daughter."_

_ He dropped his head back onto the glass and muttered, "I know."_

_ "Time Lord's previous assertion that we call the Human Female 'Clara' would dictate you should prefer to call the unborn fetus by her gender."_

_ "And since when do you care about my preference?" He shot sharply._

_ The being watched him a moment before averting its eyes, resting them on Clara, now stabilizing in the other room, "You've made it clear, should we expect the child to survive, certain bonds must be forged. The Doctor should create such a bond with his child."_

_ Biting his tongue, he nodded, because one of those bonds, he'd explained, was between mother and child and it had bought Clara some time with the infant after her birth. Watching her, breathing slowly, he tried not to think of how angry she would be with him when she found out what he'd done. The game he'd have to play to try and save them both – his impossible girl, and their impossible daughter._

_ Pushing off the glass, he gestured, "Can I go in? Check on…"_

_ "No," came the automatic response just before it strode out of the room._

* * *

Lily squealed, lifting her head up off the blanket to look at Clara with bright green eyes and a wide grin, dimple easy on her plump cheek. She had a full head of short dark hair that curled just at her neck and Clara laughed at the child before reaching forward to slip her hands underneath her chubby arms to lift her up into the air, bringing her down to the sound of happy babbling.

"Oh, my big girl," Clara called, nuzzling her neck with her nose before pressing kisses into the girl's skin, to her delight. She felt the hands that reached out and took hold of her hair as her daughter screamed happily.

Shifting her back, Clara watched her head tilt to the side, the baby's small lips coming together to hum as she continued to smile at her and Clara found herself glancing towards the door. He hadn't come back since that day and it felt like it'd been so long ago. She knew, looking back at the girl now enraptured with her clasped fists, it had been months. Months in which she'd watched their daughter learn to lift her head and roll about and begin to call out to her, a strong and simple, "Mummmm."

Months in which she'd considered their last meeting; the way he'd left the room so easily on command and how much that wasn't like him. He should have raised hell by now; he should have saved them by now, but something about this place frightened him more than anything else they'd ever encountered. And she realized, looking from the window across the room – behind which she was sure he stood – to the girl cradled now against her thighs… they could command the _both_ of them all they wanted.

Because of their daughter.

Clara understood they could easily come into the room, strip the child from her, and kill the girl dead because she knew she was still a viable _incubator_ for another child. And the thought terrified her because she knew that made Lily replaceable to them. They could take her baby and kill her just to watch her scream and then take Clara and use her again. Or, she knew, they might want to use her to create a son, one template for each sex for them to manipulate for their purposes. And Clara had nightmares about those purposes.

The Doctor had mentioned their experiments, the ruthlessness of them, but the Doctor didn't know there were no limits on a mother's imagination. Clara could see her daughter growing up far from this place, safely in a home, or aboard the Tardis. She could see with little effort the awkward length of legs she'd acquire as she entered her teenage years alongside an affinity for clumsiness, and she could just as easily see the beauty she'd become as an adult.

But she could also see her tiny body mangled on a tray.

Hugging the girl to her chest, she inhaled her scent, listening to her blowing raspberries at her and laughing until the girl peered up to match her happiness. Clara blinked at tears that fell over her cheeks as Lily flapped her arms and then gripped at the buttons on Clara's top with a loud, "Mu Mu Mu Mu Mummmm."

She passed the time daydreaming now, when they weren't asking her odd questions about Lily's development, or how she was feeling. Her answers were always measured and frightened because they demonstrated just how much they were watching them, but she preferred the questions over the times they entered the room. Lily cried whenever they came, clinging to her and burying her head in Clara's shoulder. As if she could sense Clara's fear that she'd be taken away that day.

And despite what the Doctor said, she didn't doubt they would toss her to the stars.

"Do you know what I miss, Lily?" She asked the baby as she looked up at her, enraptured by her voice, "I miss your daddy."

Lily smiled.

Poking her small nose, Clara added, "I miss hot chocolate and pizza." She slid her thumbs into her daughter's grasp, closing her eyes as the girl gripped the fingers of her hands around each tightly. "I miss curling up in bed with a good book, baby girl, and I miss sunlight."

The baby responded with a string of syllables she laughed at, nodding.

Clara glanced up when the door opened and for a moment no one entered, and then the Doctor stepped inside, turning slightly to the two beings behind him as he uttered, "Give us a moment."

They seemed reluctant and Clara swallowed roughly when he turned, his shoulders rigid and his arms hanging limp at his sides, and slowly made his way across the room to her, kneeling beside her to smile down at the infant who instinctively turned to look up at him.

"Da," she called.

He laughed, broken, and nodded, "That's right, Lily – I'm daddy."

Clara pressed her lips together to keep them from shaking, but it was no use, her body was trembling off the look he was giving the girl. "So you speak baby," she managed, "What's she been saying?"

With another ragged chuckle, he met her eyes and told her plainly, "She just says how much she loves her mummy. She loves your face, and your voice, and the way you hug her…" The words got stuck in his throat as he watched the girl who smiled up at him and then looked to the woman who held her.

Face crumpling, Clara released a sob and she shook her head when the girl's head rolled back quickly to look at her, confusion in her small features as she reached for her, releasing the grip she'd had on her thumbs. And Lily cried as Clara held her, trying her best to comfort her with soothing strokes of her palm and kisses to her temple, but she knew the girl was feeling her terror.

Because when she looked at the Doctor, she knew it was time.

"Clara," he said simply.

She shook her head, "No, _no_, you can't do this. _You_ can't do this."

Swallowing roughly, he told her, "I have to do this to keep you both safe."

"How does this keep us safe?" Clara questioned, burning eyes meeting his and finding the same pain there as he waited, "You take her from me and they'll kill me."

Hands coming to Lily's back and Clara's knee, he explained, "No, Clara, they won't kill you – it's the agreement I've made with them. For all of us."

"Agreement?" Clara spat. "You're bargaining with them? With us? Our lives?"

"_For_ our lives," he corrected, brow rising high. "Clara, we're all safe this way."

She shook her head and shifted herself and Lily out of his touch. "Everything I've seen you do; everything I've seen with you – these things terrify you and you think you can just make a deal with them and they'll keep their end."

"They've kept up their end so far," he assured. "Given you six months with your daughter to make sure she had the best chance at survival…"

"And now what?" Clara growled, "Now you think I just get dropped back off at home and they'll treat her any different than they've treated any of their other _experiments_ aboard this ship?" Clara watched his head duck as his hands griped at his thighs. "Doctor, do you really believe…"

"I have to," he shouted, and Lily began to cry as Clara jumped. "I have to believe they'll keep their word; that they'll take you back where they found us and leave Lily in my care aboard this ship."

"That's the deal you made, Doctor?" Clara whispered.

He nodded slowly.

"That's not fair," she shook her head, "She's my daughter."

"It's _not_ fair, Clara, but it's what has to happen to _keep_ _you_ _alive_."

"Me?" She shook her head, "Doctor, I don't matter – Lily matters and you've agreed…" she trailed, looking away to blink away tears as she listened to the girl now crying into her neck, "You've consented, _as her father_, to allow these _things_ to use her as an experiment."

The Doctor turned when he heard the beings at the door shift, and he steeled himself as he reached out and quickly stripped Clara of the infant before she could ready herself to resist. He stood and turned, hand firm against Lily's back as her cries grew into excruciating howls, listening to Clara just behind him scrambling to stand and rush towards him, screaming at him to give the child back. Her fingertips grazed his coat as he walked through the doorway and he took a breath, hearing the small click of the injection and then the soft thump of her body hitting the ground.


	10. Chapter 10

The first sound she made when she woke was a scream. She rolled to her side and fell off the bed they'd placed her on, smacking the floor roughly and Clara hissed because she felt the skin on her right eyebrow split, sending a trickle of blood over the side of her face as she sat up. Her eyes came open in shock and she instantly reached around herself in the darkened cell for any sign of her daughter before sobbing, chin touching her chest.

"_No_!" She moaned aloud. "Give her back! _Doctor_, give her back."

Her chest felt as though it were collapsing and she brought a fist to it, trying desperately to take a deep enough breath to scream again, but instead she choked on her own gasps. Pushing to her feet, she stumbled about the room, hands against the wall, fingernails scraping at the surface to try and find the door, because she knew there had to be one.

"Hey, _hello_!" She shouted, cupping her hands against each wall and trying to look through to the other side, but all she saw was the black of the wall in front of her face and she finally stopped and simply banged with a balled fist.

Somewhere on this ship, and she knew by the familiar vibrations underfoot she was still on the ship, her daughter was frightened without her. Somewhere Lily was calling out to her, she could feel it in her heart, and she banged until she had to pull her hand away, numb and bloodied from the effort. And she raised her other hand, beginning anew.

"_Give me back my daughter_!"

Clara cradled her right hand against her chest as she continually lifted the left, hitting harder each time, a small grunt of pain escaping when she felt the skin break, sending a small shock up her arm with each new knock. She finally raised both arms and pounded her hands into the surface, dropping her head in between to cry.

"Human Female will step to the center of the room."

"Give her back, please, _give her back_," Clara pleaded.

"Human Female will step to the center of the room."

"_Fuck off_!" She bellowed.

"Human Female will step to the center of the room."

She slumped onto the floor and shook her head, but reluctantly moved herself to her perceived center of the room and waited, trying to will her breathing to calm. They entered, several long pale beings who stared down at her with blank expressions as they looked her over, mouths muttering to one another in their own language – a language she couldn't understand because they were still too far from the Tardis to translate. Which she knew meant they had no intention of taking her back.

Releasing a small laugh, she shook her head – they'd lied to the Doctor to get him to cooperate; they'd probably lied to him about his status as well and soon, she knew, her daughter would be in the hands of these creatures who would use her, study her, experiment on her and then duplicate her to continue the process. Clara launched herself at the closest being and she landed a hard punch to its face, leaving a smear of red across its cheek and when they tried to move her off, she swung her legs out erratically, catching thick flesh and aiming her limbs at the same spot until she was held down against the cold floor, staring up at eyes that now looked back in shock.

"A most resilient species, humans," one told her, "It is why you survive in every corner of the galaxy in some form or another despite all attempts to eradicate you."

Clara took several long breaths before she spit up into the face that had spoken.

"Is she still viable?"

She looked from one being to another, waiting for the answer.

"Yes."

There was a pause, in which Clara felt the blood in her veins going cold at the thought of being sedated and made to carry another child they would simply take and torture. Another innocent life made by monsters. Clara considered the size of the aliens surrounding her – she could, with enough effort, get past them if she could slip out of their grasp. She began to shift, but the fingers gripping her squeezed painfully and she cried out at the unexpected force.

"Is she necessary?"

Another long pause before one of the others declared softly, "No."

* * *

Lying in a small medical cot, Lily studied the ceiling above her and the Doctor watched as she reached a hand up and then brought it back, clasping it at her chest as she heaved a long sigh and then looked to her hands. She brought them to her lips and chewed her fingers, beginning to huff as she pouted, and then her face contorted as she began to cry. He stepped forward, but the beings stopped him from going to her, and he could feel his hearts hammering as the girl continued to wail, hands shaking just in front of her face before she began reaching again.

Trying to find her mother.

_And feeling the rejection of her absence_.

"Please," the Doctor said softly.

"The Hybrid child is not experiencing hunger," he was told.

He shook his head, "No, Lily is experiencing loneliness. Humans, Time Lords… every species in the universe craves companionship…"

"We do not." The answer was curt and he bowed his head against it.

"Please," he repeated, voice breaking as Lily continued to cry, her own small voice shaking in a way that made it hard for him to breathe. "Please."

The hands at his upper arms slackened and then dropped away and the Doctor moved forward swiftly, reaching into the cot to lift the girl up against his chest, patting her back and swaying the way he'd seen Clara do a thousand times. After a few moments, her cries subsided and she murmured at his bow tie, forehead rubbing against his chin as she slipped a hand around the edge of his waistcoat, gripping it tightly.

_Where did my mummy go_?

"She's being taken home, Lily – or at least taken back to Grasfth. She'll be able to find the Tardis there and the Tardis will take her home." He smiled and nodded. "And she'll be safe. Mummy will be safe."

The child lay silently against him, contemplating his words before she glanced up at him and took a small breath, fingers scratching at his shirt. For a moment he refused to meet her gaze because he knew the disappointment he would find there, but she continued to stare and he finally let his eyes trail to hers. They were wide and waiting and held the unspoken question.

_Do you really think they'd let her go_?

"Mummy will be safe," he repeated with a rise of his eyebrows, and he watched her own drop on her forehead just before she looked away. Six months old and so much like her mother. "And you need to remember not to cry unless you need something," he whispered, "I don't want them…"

She interrupted him with a quick squeal. _I need mummy_.

He frowned, looking to the aliens watching him and he nodded, slowly, before pacing the room with her in his arms, bouncing her lightly so that her eyelids drooped and she dropped her head back onto his chest. "Lily, you've got me now, ok? All of the universe at our fingertips," he tried to smile, watching her stare at the space in front of her, as if she understood he was lying to her.

The door to the room opened and another being stepped inside, his words were a whisper, but the Doctor heard him clearly, "The council has declared the Human Female disposable."

"Disposable," the Doctor repeated, turning towards them. He didn't need to ask to know – they'd never intended to keep their end of the bargain with him. But he knew Clara was still alive, somewhere aboard.

"The Human Female is not necessary for the further duplication of the Time Lord-Human hybrid species; genetic materials have been collected and…"

"Have I been deemed disposable as well then?" He asked quietly, feeling Lily squirming at his chest uncomfortably.

The alien shook its head, "As the last Time Lord, your knowledge and genetic coding is required for re-establishing your species…"

"Under your control," he provided.

"Time Lords once ruled over the galaxies."

"You think creating children you can call Gallifreyan will give you power over a universe?" He laughed, glancing down at Lily. "They'd still be children."

It stared at him, "All records indicate the Doctor is capable of raising up an army. One established with your mind; your abilities – it would be a force the universe has not seen since Gallifrey lorded over it."

He straightened with a nod, understanding there was no way to convince them otherwise. Knowing they were probably right. Shifting Lily in his arms and clenching his jaw, he asked, "How will Clara be… disposed?" And before it could answer, the Doctor supplied, "I'll do it – it's only right that I be the one pulling the proverbial trigger. She can look her murderer in the eye for what he is: a coward who _betrayed_ her."

The aliens all turned to look at him, as if considering him before one approached him and asked, "How would you dispose of the Human Female, Doctor?"

Nodding slowly, he explained, "The humane way – lethal injection, cocktail of different drugs. The information is readily available, if you wish to look into the matter. Should be relatively fast and painless and then we can do as I'd asked: take her back to Grasfth to be _properly_ disposed of at a _proper_ medical facility."

"And then you will assist in the reproduction of your species, Doctor."

He looked over the child in his arms, the way she stared up at him with such uncertainty, as if she knew – just as her mother always did – that there was a better way. He smiled, lifting a finger to touch her small cheek before touching her chest with his knuckle and watching the corners of her mouth lift into her mother's grin. Raising his head, he met the being's eyes and he nodded.

"And then I will assist in giving Lily a family."


	11. Chapter 11

They had her strapped to a metal slab when he entered, reluctantly leaving Lily in the next room to save her the pain of knowing what he was about to do, and when she looked up at him, he could see the terror on her face slip away slightly. She smiled casually, just before she saw the needle he carried and the solemn look in his eyes and she opened her mouth, but there were too many questions in her mind at once.

"Where's Lily?" She finally asked, voice barely audible.

He bowed his head as he reached the table, "She's in the next room."

Clara's head fell back against the table. "You have to do it, don't you?"

Lifting a hand to stroke the hair at her head, he clenched his jaw.

"Just tell me she's ok," Clara managed, tears rolling over her temples. "Tell me, please."

With a short nod, he affirmed, "She'll be in my care."

"Your care," she repeated curtly before hissing lowly, "How do you know it won't be you on this table tomorrow?"

"They want me to raise an army," he muttered. "I'm _indispensable_ because of what I can teach them."

She nodded. "Our children; an _army_." Clara laughed and shifted her head to throw him a look of disgust before allowing, "Suppose you have to do what you have to do to preserve yourself – last of the Time Lords."

"Clara…"

She shook her head, eyes closing, sending more tears flowing, "Please tell me she'll be safe." She didn't want to think of any other children. Part of her hoped it couldn't be done without her, though she knew the odds of that were slim – it was millions of years in the future, they could turn her daughter into a stamp at the snap of a finger and start churning out new Time Lord hybrid children before her body was cold.

Bending slightly, he whispered, "I will keep her safe, Clara. I promise."

"Don't promise me, Doctor," she sighed, opening her eyes to meet his, "You promise her and when you break that promise you make sure you look her in the eye and tell her how _sorry_ you are. How there was nothing you could do. How it was a fixed point or how you were powerless against it."

Bracing himself against what he was about to do, he nodded, "This is going to sting for a moment, but it should be like falling asleep."

She cried out once, legs visibly fighting against the restraints and he shook his head, sending his own tears warmly over his cheeks as he pulled the cap off the needle he held. "You're _killing_ me," she moaned lowly. "_You_."

The Doctor rubbed a thumb over the crook of her arm and she turned away as he slipped the cold steel just underneath her skin and pressed lightly to administer the drugs, watching her wince. He pulled the needle back and it fell out of his hands, shattering against the ground as he watched her features relax.

It would only take thirty seconds, he knew. He watched her chest drop as she exhaled while he held his breath. Lifting two shaky fingers to her neck, he felt for her pulse and then turned and gave them a nod through the double sided wall, falling back away from her.

"We're taking her to Grasfth," he said plainly. "_Please_, allow her the dignity…"

"The ship should arrive within a day."

He gave a small smile, turning away from her and reaching out to prop himself up against the wall he knew they were watching through and for a moment, he felt a small tug at his hearts. Glancing up he knew exactly what it was and his mouth fell open.

"Tell me you didn't," he barked. "Tell me you didn't make her watch." He raised an arm, "_That is her mother_."

He pushed off the wall and moved through the open door and around to where he could now hear Lily's hiccupped wail and he pulled her easily out of the arms of one of the beings, shifting her so she could bury her face in his shoulder. A human child wouldn't understand, but a child of Gallifrey … Lily could feel the heartbeat slow, could sense the mental link she'd established between herself and her mother turn into a wall of static and she was far too young to comprehend what had happened.

Leaning her back in his arms, he cradled her head in his fingers, shushing her gently as he took a long labored breath and whispered, "Lily, please, sense _me_ now."

His fingers stroked at her softly and he worked to send her amplified senses from himself. He flooded her mind with the memory of her mother's laugh and he listened as she chuckled lightly, sniffling as he remembered her voice.

_ "Is this actually what you do? Do you just crook your finger and people just jump in your snog box and fly away?"_

_ "You're a thousand years old, you must have something you care about."_

_ "I was doing okay. I mean, I went in there and I did the scary stuff, didn't I?"_

_ "To you, I'm a ghost. We're all ghosts to you. We must be nothing."_

_ "Okay, I don't know what the hell this is about but the hug is really nice."_

_ "You're making a habit of this, getting us lost."_

_ "See you next Wednesday!"_

_ "It's like my mum said, 'The soufflé isn't the soufflé. The soufflé is the recipe.' It's the only way to save him, isn't it?"_

Lily was quiet now, thumb pressed to her lips, considering sucking on it as her eyes drifted shut while he smiled at the memories flashing from his mind to hers. The way Clara pursed her lips at him when he was being ridiculous to the way she broke into an easy smile at some unexpected happiness. And her giggle. He laughed, hearing it replayed from a hundred times he'd heard it and his eyes opened as he listened to it escape the small mouth in front of him.

She had her mother's laugh. And he'd never… "I love your laugh, Lily," he whispered, choking on tears as he watched her open her eyes to stare up at him, giving him another quiet chuckle. Turning away from the beings, he cradled his daughter closer to him, touching her hands and grinning when she gripped his forefinger and tucked it into her mouth, gnawing to ease the pain of the two teeth he could feel just beneath the surface of her lower gum.

The Doctor looked her over, like he had every moment of the past twelve hours since he'd taken her away from Clara, but now, instead of seeing his daughter – his green eyes and his stubbornness and his devilish smile – he saw Clara's.

And it took his breath away.

Her perfectly arched eyebrows and her small nose and her slender fingers. Her gentle skin with that ticklish spot just at her side and, he smiled, her tiny toes. And the expectation in her eyes for him to be something greater than he ever thought he could be.

"I never told her I loved her," he breathed, "_How much_ I loved her."

Lily lifted a second hand to his, holding him in place and mumbling through her chewing.

_Mummy knew_.

"Mummy always knew, didn't she," he replied with a smile.

The girl grinned and he turned slightly, looking to the beings watching him in this room, and the others undoing her restraints in the other, about to lift her to deposit her body into a white bag that lay on the ground. He raised a hand and then curled his fingers, hesitating before swallowing and taking a step towards them.

"When we were taken she didn't have her clothes – she was still in the hospital gown…" He began, wondering just how much compassion he could squeeze out of them, if he tried. He feared he may have gotten too much already.

But the closest being nodded and explained, "We secured all possessions for patient: Clara Oswald."

He nodded slowly, accepting this and then he asked quickly and quietly, "Could I dress her. Again, for dignity's sake, before she's… left behind."

They watched him as he turned his attention back to Lily, who was staring up at him curiously, drooling against the knuckle he maintained between her lips. One alien lifted a hand to another before telling him, "We will put the Human Female into the garments she arrived at the hospital in."

The Doctor raised his head again and this time be boldly prompted with a dip of his chin towards the child in his arms, "Before you leave her, could we say goodbye?"

His hearts gave a rough double thud in his chest and Lily inhaled sharply. Glancing back down at her, he watched the way her bottom lip pushed out sadly as she shoved his hand away and began to seek the comfort of her own hands for the ache in her mouth. As if she understood that he was letting her mother be dropped off on a strange planet, to be dealt with like medical waste products.

"Let Lily have a proper goodbye," he pleaded. "Let her see her mother, just once, as a human being and not some experiment in your lab. You owe her that much."

They seemed to be considering it and he shifted his jaw from side to side in agony because he needed to see her one last time and he wanted to make sure Lily did as well. He didn't want these creatures to succeed in having her last glimpse of her mother be the woman who writhed in restraints against the anguish of knowing the man she trusted most in the universe was delivering her death.

"You will have five minutes with Clara Oswald before we depart Grasfth, Doctor."


	12. Chapter 12

He'd convinced them to let him dress Lily and was given only a few minutes to rummage amongst a room full of discarded clothes they'd yet to incinerate that made his chest throb with anger knowing all of the items had once belonged to living persons now either deceased or held captive somewhere aboard. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming knowing they'd taken children small enough that he had options. And when he finally tugged a small black and red dress from the pile, he had to wipe at his face with the back of his hand to avoid having Lily see him crying.

It looked like something Clara would have chosen herself. Black top with bright red sleeves to match the bottom half of the dress that fit Lily too largely, but, as he held her up to look at her, he couldn't help the laugh that escaped as her head fell to the side and she grinned back at him happily.

"You look so pretty for mummy," he offered.

She squealed and clapped her hands at the mention of her name and his lips came together tightly as he brought her to his chest to stand and leave the room, following the aliens who escorted them towards an exit ramp that lead into a back entrance of the hospital. They were wheeling her just ahead, body zipped up in the bag, but he could see the faint outline of the black skirt and light blouse against the thin material, grey cardigan, still caked in dried blood from the injuries sustained so many months ago, hanging loosely at her sides.

Lily looked out at the planet and he couldn't help watch as her eyes widened and she released a long string of babbled nonsense to exclaim her happiness at being outside of the ship. To tell him how she liked the trees in the distance and the color of the sky. To ask about the large building and the people who were walking away from them. To question if mummy would wake up to see it with them.

Shushing her gently, they entered through a door and the Doctor felt a tight hand grip his arm, squeezing just enough to let him know their strength and he nodded to the being while listening to Lily murmur to him quietly, as if even she knew this place required secrecy. And finally he was ushered into the morgue and he was released, allowed to walk to her side and watch as they carefully undid the zipper so he could look down at her pale face with tears blurring his vision.

"Hello, Clara," he whimpered, turning to look at the aliens standing guard before bellowing, "Where are we going to go! _Get out_!"

They watched him another moment before finally turning and moving out of the room, closing the door roughly behind them. The Doctor lifted a knuckle to her face and he touched over the coolness there.

"Mummmm," Lily called.

"Shh, Lily, mummy is sleeping," he told her quietly, fingers drifting over Clara's jaw and then down to her shoulder and then he reached further, fingers drifting into the left pocket of her skirt before shifting to the right in frustration. He passed a nervous glance at the door and then his head whipped back as he grasped the item he'd been looking for, tucked deeply in the fabric – her Tardis key. He released a loud laugh as he raised Clara's hand, bending her fingers open to place the key within her palm before closing his hand around it and waiting.

_Take us home_.

In a burst of warmth and glowing golden light that made Lily scream in surprise, they blinked out of the morgue and into the Tardis console room and the Doctor picked Clara up off the gurney roughly with his free arm, dragging her down on the ground and kicking the bed aside. He settled Lily beside her and the girl tugged on the edges of the bag that still encased most of her body as he shouted in terror, "_Help me_!"

And the Tardis, before the words were complete, had removed the thoughts from his mind and moved the medication from his stash to a spot next to him alongside a long needle. He pushed up on his knees, grasping both items to fill the needle and then, with one apologetic glance at the baby watching him, he stabbed the needle into Clara's heart, injecting her quickly and then rushing to pull Lily aside as the girl argued in anger.

For a moment Clara remained still and he shook his head. The calculations he'd done, the combination of medications he'd given her, it shouldn't have been enough to really… he'd even taken hormonal shifts into account. He loosened his grip on Lily when she began to cry and in that moment, Clara gasped, eyes opening wide as she struggled to take a long breath. The Doctor clamored forward, free hand in her hair as he watched Lily's arms reaching for the woman now looking about wildly.

"Small breaths, Clara. Take small breaths. Ease back into it," he told her on a laugh.

She was trying to nod, and he closed his eyes, leaning forward and pressing his head to hers before lifting up to kiss her forehead firmly. He set Lily back at her side, slipping his way towards the controls, fumbling at them until the tubing at the center lit up a scarlet red in anger over the psychic information it was drawing from the three inhabitants. The Tardis growled and the Doctor released a rumbling moan as he directed her. He locked onto the ship settled just behind the hospital and he tugged it along with them up and into the time vortex and he smiled, teeth clenched as he searched for a proper destination and when he found it, he gave another low laugh, typing out a message and shooting it towards a computer on another set of ships indicating the crimes committed against the laws dictated in the Shadow Proclamation.

"Let's see how you do against a _Judoon_ _Platoon_," he drawled, poking at a red button and lifting his arm with a gleeful smile as he turned to see Clara's hand drifting to hold Lily firmly at her side as the girl babbled at her excitedly.

_ We saw the outside, mummy, and we woke you up, mummy, and now we're in a new place, mummy, and mummy, you're going to love this place with the spinning top and the vworp vworp sounds. Mummy, get up so you can see it all._

His breathing slowed as he watched Clara's tears as she finally turned her head to look at her daughter, struggling to bring her other arm up and wincing against the effort. "Clara, you're not going to be able to get up straight away; you need to lie still and let the medicine spread through your body. Lily, mummy needs to rest."

"Yeah," she breathed.

And he could hear the roughness in the single word. The anger still deeply embedded in it because she didn't fully understand what had happened. The Doctor slid the Tardis to a stop and disengaged the anchor to the Kukof ship, letting it drift directly into the middle of the Judoon fleet, who had received his message and were now hailing the other ship, alarms blaring.

He glanced up to see the incoming message to his screen. It seemed like nonsense, but he understood the ship would be taken care of – the people inside would be returned to their home planets, and at least that one ship would be obliterated from space.

"One less demon in the darkness," he said softly, looking back to Clara and Lily.

The little girl had dragged herself half onto Clara's torso and was currently pumping her legs against the console floor while hugging at Clara's chest, cheek pressed into her breast as she made happy incoherent noises. And Clara slid a bruised hand slowly towards the girl's bare feet, meeting her palm to her heel and stroking at her ankle gently with her thumb as she smiled weakly.

* * *

He'd carried her to his bedroom and laid her down into the sheets after reconstructing the room to include a penned off play area for Lily so he could settle her down for a nap. The girl squealed up at him as she lay on the purple and mint colored mats, fingers curling around a soft pink and yellow blanket and giving it a shake. He knew he'd have to get baby clothes, the wardrobe wasn't exactly stocked for children, and though he'd stopped at a small market on Earth for formula, he knew it should be up to Clara to decide what she should eat.

"Clara?" He called when he heard her give a small groan.

Turning away from Lily, he could see the woman trying to lift herself into a seated position, only to fall back onto the pillow with a ragged sob. "What's wrong with me?" She breathed.

Moving to her side, the Doctor sat on the bed and took her hand, feeling it go flaccid against his and he shook his head, telling her honestly, "You were dead for twenty one hours and fifteen minutes – it might take some time for everything to _wake back up_, so to speak."

She was shaking her head, "I didn't die."

"No," he assured, "You were only as dead as you needed to be."

Clara shifted to look at him and he frowned at the redness in her eyes and the way her jaw was clenched tightly in anger. Her hand was trying to tug away from him and he placed it atop her stomach. "You killed me."

"I only pretended to kill you," he told her softly with a nod, knowing that as much as she might have understood it, she also understood that he'd taken a great chance. "All part of the plan," he told her, not feeling any better as she continued to look up at him with disappointment. "Pretend to kill you, get you into your clothes where there was, most definitely – well, _most likely_ – still a Tardis key and get you back to Grasfth so the key could transport us to the Tardis."

"And if any of that hadn't worked?" Clara questioned.

He glanced at the door, "Without the shot, your heart would have stopped after twenty four hours," then he looked to Lily, "If they'd figured out what I'd done, they would have killed me on the spot and taken Lily," he looked to her, "I had to take that chance. I had to try, Clara."

She was nodding, slowly, considering his words. He waited for her to say something because he knew what he'd put her through. Knew the trauma of watching him take her child, then watching him be the one to execute her, wouldn't so easily be erased. But she remained silent, staring at the space to her right where Lily was now talking animatedly to her blanket and the Doctor smiled at what she'd said.

"You speak baby," Clara said blankly.

"Yes," he nodded.

"What's she saying?"

He laid a hand atop hers as he spoke, "She's telling her blanket that she thought you were going to sleep forever, but then you woke up and she knows everything is going to be alright."

Giving a small nod, she closed her eyes and took a long breath. The Doctor picked her hand up into his again and he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. He waited for her to look at him as Lily continued to talk about seeing him make her mummy sleep and then seeing him wake her up and he turned when she asked the blanket why he plays strange games.

"What?" Clara questioned.

He smiled, then frowned at the ground, "She thinks I played a game."

"Aren't you always playing at something," Clara responded lowly. Shifting back to look at her, he shook his head, starting to reply, but Clara interrupted him, voice bold as she declared, "I want to go home."


	13. Chapter 13

He couldn't take her back to the time he'd picked her up in; he knew there'd be no way to explain the six month old infant Clara would be bringing back with her – because she'd made it clear Lily would remain with her – so he took her a year and two months later and settled the Tardis outside of her apartment complex with a small scratch to the back of his head and a wary glance to the woman holding the baby and looking at the doors.

"Clara, you don't have to…"

"I need some time," she turned to tell him, "I need some normalcy."

With a small nod, he went to her and then passed her, opening the Tardis doors to usher her out and he watched her peer up at the building with a sadness he'd never seen in her eyes before. She was home, but she felt lost. He began to follow her, but she stopped, lifting a hand to press to his chest as he smiled and offered, "I could sleep on the couch, or in the Tardis, or on the floor. Do you have a dog house, I've heard those might be appro…"

"No," Clara uttered. "I need some time."

He froze to the spot and looked at the sudden fierceness in her eyes and the way her lips pressed together so tightly they turned white. "Time away from me," he allowed, then added, "Normalcy."

She softened when he raised a finger and touched Lily's cheek, eliciting a small giggle before the girl dropped her head down shyly on her mother's shoulder. "Just… some time to sort myself out."

"How much time?" He questioned, feeling his hearts starting to pound.

Clara considered it and shrugged, "_Time_, pick a date – pick a date in the future and call me."

She watched him absorb the words before he reached forward, nodding slightly, and she handed Lily to him, fingers reluctant to release their grip on the girl, and when she did, it was with an inadvertent moan of discontent that broke his hearts. She considered him taking the girl for good. Clara _considered_ him stealing their daughter and it burned him that she held him in such contempt.

"Everything I did, I did to save your life," he managed, his voice catching in his throat as Lily tugged at his bow tie and babbled about how it was silly. "I would have died to stop them from doing anything to her, Clara. You have to believe that; I would have died for her."

She nodded slowly and watched as the Doctor hugged the child to him, kissing the top of her head with closed eyes and a small transferred message – _I love you, Lily, and I will come back soon_. Clara understood it without hearing it and she reached out to slip her fingers around the girl's midsection, taking her back into her arms and turning without another word to begin the walk to her apartment. She knew the Doctor stood behind her, watching her go while pulling out a new Sonic tightly in his grasp and she increased her pace, making her way through the back door and up the stairs listening to Lily mumble as she held to her securely.

The girl was resting her head on her shoulder when she reached her door, holding the keys in her hands hesitantly because she wasn't even sure they would work. A year later, they wouldn't have kept her apartment for her, would they? She suddenly felt incredibly stupid, knowing she should have asked him to drop her off at her dad's, or even the Maitlands. Closing her eyes as she held the brass object just at the mouth of the lock, Clara held her breath, and slipped the key in, turning it slowly and then pushing the door open, not ready to look at her apartment again. To see the familiar hallway with the stamped posters and the rack of jackets and purses hanging there.

All exactly as she'd left them.

She moved forward and stepped carefully through the small space with her daughter, feeling claustrophobic as she made her way towards the living room and when she got there, she heard ceramic shatter against the floor. Her heart pounded loudly as she looked up to meet her father's eyes as he stood across the room from her, staring as if he were looking at a ghost. Her name was on his lips, but no sound emerged and he shook his head as his eyes watered.

"Hello, daddy," she whispered, swallowing hard as her chin trembled.

The man slowly walked between the small table nestled against the wall and the couch settled at the center of the room, but he stopped two feet away, looking Clara over before taking in the child she held. The child no honest person could deny was her daughter and she wanted him to smile at the girl – she wanted Lily's first memory of her grandfather to be a good one, but the man simply shook his head, hand coming up to touch the crusted blood at her blouse before slipping his palm to her face as she crumpled against him.

"Clara," he muttered, "Where have you been? _Where have you been_?"

She could hear a thousand questions in just that one and she felt weak, lifting her free arm slowly, keys falling away as she grasped onto him for support. "I was gone," she managed to reply. Clara shook her head against her father's chest, unable to conceive of a tale that would explain her appearance, explain the time loss, explain the baby girl now clinging to her and calling out to her. "I was gone," she repeated.

She could feel him shaking against her and she understood, she'd been gone for over a year with no notice, they hadn't thought to go back and leave one. Dave Oswald had lost his wife already and when she'd 'disappeared, he thought he'd lost his daughter as well and now she was falling to the floor with him in a heap, sobbing uncontrollably as Lily continued to say her name, over and over, and finally her father slipped back, hand coming up to smooth tears from her face before he asked simply, "What happened?"

Clara shook her head, bringing her hands up to hug Lily to her, trying to give the girl the security she needed in that moment, meeting this strange man for the first time and being crushed into him. She thought through the events of the past few months, painfully trying to remember every detail. Trying to sort what was real from what was imagined from what was just a nightmare and she found she couldn't. She slowly looked back up at him, watching as his eyes lingered on her face before reluctantly falling to Lily.

"Clara?" He asked, and she could see his eyes welling up.

"This is my daughter; this is my Lily," she breathed.

"Daughter," he repeated incredulously. "Clara, _Clara_, how did you… _when_? _What happened_…" his face contorted painfully before he asked, "Please _tell me_ what happened because _this makes no sense_ – you've been gone for over a year. _Gone_, Clara. Just disappeared and now… _you have a dau_… how?"

He looked away with a sort of disgust that burned at her chest and she could only imagine what he thought had happened – he wouldn't be far from the truth. The blood on her shirt, the bruised cut at her eyebrow, the hands that ached with each movement she made, visibly purple and green and gashed. The man in front of her imagined she'd been kidnapped; imagined she'd been abused; imagined she'd been raped; imagined she'd been forced to give birth to a daughter; and he imagined she'd escaped.

And she broke down because he was right.

Clara shifted forward, dropping her head onto his chest and she gripped at his sweater, screaming into it as Lily began to cry, not understanding her mother's pain. His arms wrapped around her and she felt his tears dropping into her hair as he held her and then she heard him beginning to dial numbers into his mobile and she jerked away, shaking her head and slapping it away.

"_No, you can't call anyone_," she shouted as Lily cried.

He stared at her a moment, "Clara, I have to call the police! I have to call an ambulance! They have to check you – _they have to check her_. I have to call your Gran and let her know you're alright. She's been worried sick." He shook his head as she reached to stop him again, "Clara, what's wrong?"

"You can't – no one can…" she looked at Lily. The girl was staring up anxiously at her, mouth set in a shaky frown. "She's not…" Clara looked to her father and she took a long breath before admitting, "She's not a normal baby girl, dad."

He offered an awkward smile, reaching for his phone and then gasping because Clara ripped it out of his hands and chucked it over her shoulder before he could firmly get a hold of it. "_Clara_, you've been through a traumatic event… it's only natural you want to," he searched for a word before settling on, "Hide."

But Clara huffed out in response, wiping at her own tears with the back of her hand and she allowed, "No, dad, you don't understand. I wasn't…" she licked her lips and then shifted Lily in her lap, watching the girl as she held her own knees and looked up from Dave to Clara, pouting her discontent. "Listen to her heartbeat." The man simply stared. "Dad, _listen to her_!"

He reached forward slowly, hands slipping around the child to pick her up, a quick smile crossing his face as Lily released a small whine at being taken from her mother and Clara's hand lifted to her chest knowing why the child was frightened. She waited, watching her father lift the baby up so he could place his ear to her and Clara couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her as LIly reached out to pat at his head. And then he stood, snatching the phone off the floor and dialing.

"Clara, her heart is hammering like mad. I don't know what they did to you, but I can't – I can't just stand by and not get you both the medical attention you need."

She stood quickly, stumbling to get to him and he cradled the phone against his shoulder, holding LIly to him with one hand while keeping Clara at bay with the other as she shouted, "No, dad, _don't_! They can't examine her, _they'll take her_! Dad, _hang up the phone_! _Please_!"

He nodded slowly and she thought maybe he would listen, but then he gave her address to someone on the phone, he told them his name, and he told them that his daughter had returned. "She's had a baby and she's in some sort of shock – I need doctors, someone…"

"No, _daddy_, please," she pleaded, reaching out as she watched Lily beginning to sob. The girl pushed at the man holding her and she tilted towards Clara, arms outstretched, fingers wide and searching and Clara tried to pull her away as her father dropped the phone, but she ended up in his grasp.

Dave wrapped his arm around her and brought her down to the floor with him again and he relinquished his hold on the baby girl, letting Clara take her back. Securely holding them both now, he cradled them in his arms as he waited for the police to arrive, listening all the while to the both of them crying.

Shaking her head against Lily's, Clara felt helpless and it hurt worse because she wasn't in some alien space ship far off in the darkness of space; she was in the confines of her own home, being held by her father. She cried out in anguish as he tried to soothe her and some part of her broke, unleashing a flood of tears and a chorus of screams because she knew. Clara knew the moment they heard those two heartbeats everything would dissolve around her again and she was certain of the outcome.

She'd have escaped monsters only to have her daughter taken by humans.


	14. Chapter 14

They arrived like a storm. Police swarming the building and asking her questions she refused to answer; EMT's looking her over as she struggled, arms still wrapped protectively around her daughter; media parking around the building just trying to get a video of her because she was the woman who'd vanished.

She tried to find the humor in that – _the woman who'd vanished_.

The Doctor wouldn't approve.

Lily couldn't fall asleep amid the commotion, but she could feel the child becoming aggravated at being held so tightly for so long and after a few hours of refusing help and telling everyone she was fine – telling everyone to leave them alone – she was surprised to feel the pinprick into the side of her arm just as two larger men gripped her firmly in place. And the only sound she could make was the beginning of a question before she felt faint and the warm body that had been settled against her chest was lifted away, leaving her lunging forward in a half-dazed state towards the now blurry figures carrying her screaming daughter away.

"I'm so sorry, Clara," she heard her father tell her and her eyes rolled back to find him, the hand curled rigidly against his chin stopping his tears from leaving his face. "I'm so sorry."

"No," she managed, falling back into the arms of a medical technician and she fought with all of her might to stay awake, but it was no use.

* * *

The Doctor landed his Tardis inside the Judoon ship that had been summoning him from Earth the moment he'd left Clara and Lily, and he stepped out cautiously, met by several solemn rhinoceros faces staring at him. He had to give a detailed account of what had occurred, for records, and he nodded against the Tardis' shoddy translation of the Judoon language. He was lead to a small room where a device sat atop a table and he sat slowly, hands lying on the surface as he waited for the questions to start.

_ How had they come to be in captivity?_

_ What had been done to them?_

_ What length of time had passed?_

_ How had they escaped?_

_ What other evidence could be provided?_

_ What was the current location of Clara Oswald?_

_ What was the current location of the Gallifreyan-Human child?_

"Her name is Lily," the Doctor corrected. "And she is with her mother."

They wanted him to bring Clara out of the Tardis and he smiled to the table, lifting his head to shake it as he stated on record that the woman and child were not to be consulted about these matters. Hadn't they been through enough? Weren't there others aboard the Kukof ship who could attest to the atrocities committed? For a moment he had the gut wrenching thought that somehow the Kukof ship had gotten away, or that somehow they weren't going to be held accountable for their crimes.

But the ship and all of its guilty inhabitants had been destroyed.

"Good on you, mates," he responded with a small salute, an exhale of alleviation, and a smile.

Except that, again, they asked the location of the Gallifreyan child.

The Doctor slipped back in the seat and tilted his head, offering, "She's with her mum, safe and sound, I promise; I'll be keeping tabs on them both, as I've done their whole lives."

And they asked again.

"Why the concern?"

He waited patiently as they exchanged glances and then he felt his stomach drop as they informed him that the child had been deemed in defiance with the Shadow Proclamation's articles against unregulated breeding of extinct species using surrogates and was to be taken into custody. The Doctor stood quickly, shouting roughly, "_No_, she doesn't violate the laws of the Shadow Proclamation, she is _exempt_, being the product of not only the extinct subject in question – _being myself_ – but also of a human, a human who gave birth to her and therefore holds rights over her."

"Created without consent," they argued.

"_Consent_? This is about consent?" He spat. "She's a living, breathing being – you taking her into custody because of her lineage makes you no better than the criminals you executed for the atrocities committed aboard that ship." He shook his head, "Lily is innocent and should be left in the very capable hands of her biological mother."

"The mother must be questioned to determine the legitimacy of the claims."

Pushing a hand over his features, he shook his head, "The mother deserves to be absolved of this; she deserves to be left alone after what's been done to her. She deserves to care for her child _in peace_."

There was a moment of quiet discussion and the Doctor waited, hands balled at his sides because he knew they could easily float the ship above Earth and, as they'd done before, they could bring whatever building Clara happened to be inside of up to the surface of the moon to interrogate her despite his requests. He watched them consulting a screen between them and when they turned, he held his breath.

"The child is to be examined; the mother is to be questioned."

* * *

_ Her eyes opened slowly, heavily, and she grimaced against the unexpected pain in her abdomen. Clara tried to raise herself up, but she found herself restrained as she turned her head to look to her side and letting out a small squeak of a scream through weak vocal chords as she saw the beings walking around her. For a moment she convinced herself it was a dream, but the pain that rounded her lower stomach and pinched at her back was real enough to bring tears to her eyes._

_ "Human Female needs to be sedated for the procedure."_

_ They injected something into the tubing at her arm and she coughed a cry, shaking her head just as she began to hear an infant's first wails. Clara tried to lift her head and she caught a glimpse of the baby being lifted away from her, length of umbilical cord still hanging limply over the small child's stomach. And Clara drifted back to sleep as the lasers began working feverishly at her midsection._

Screaming, Clara shot up in bed, one hand gripping the rail at her side while the other searched her stomach, instantly pulling at the gown she wore and pushing at her undergarments to examine her skin. Why had she never thought to? She narrowed her eyes, blinking against the darkness of the room and the remnants of whatever they'd given her to keep her calm and she found it, the thin trail of a scar, barely noticeable, across her stomach.

"They said you must have had a caesarean, whoever took you must have done it; must have had some skill for the scar to have faded so quickly," her father told her calmly, lifting himself off of the couch a few feet away to enter the dim light from just above her head. He looked pained as he asked, "Can you remember it at all, Clara?"

She watched him a moment, feeling betrayed, and asked quietly, "Where's Lily?"

He turned away, and she could see the flutter of confusion on his face before he turned and told her, "She's got an abnormality, Clara."

"She has a binary cardiovascular system," Clara corrected, watching as his gaze shifted into one of shock and she nodded slowly, lips trembling as she told him, "That's what I was trying to tell you – she's not an ordinary little girl."

"They say there's a record of this, or rather, there's an urban legend – older doctors sometimes say there _has_ been a man or two brought in with two hearts. Long ago, and they laugh at the tale, but…"

Clara was nodding slowly, "The Doctor."

"Chap you travel about with?" Dave asked. "But he's a young bloke; this was decades ago, from what I hear one man was here before you were a thought on your mum's mind." He started to laugh, but then he watched Clara as she stared. "This man kidnapped you?"

"No," she huffed in amusement and shook her head, "He's an alien."

"Like, from outer space?"

"No, dad, he's crossed a border," she spat angrily. "_Yes_, from outer space!"

Dave fell into a chair that had been settled at her side and he opened and closed his mouth three times before meeting her eyes, finding the sincerity there, and asking, "Clara, you want me to believe you've been with a man from outer space?" Then he closed his eyes to avoid seeing her nod and continued, "You want me to believe that's where you've been for the past year – the past year we've been searching morgues and ditches and puttin' up posters all over the world trying to find you – you've just been up in the stars."

"Been up there for years, I just usually come home in between," she whispered honestly.

He gripped the bed, "Clara, it's nonsense."

"_Dad, it's the truth_," she shouted.

"Clara, no," he growled roughly, "You were kidnapped by people who hurt you," and she saw anger in his eyes like she'd never seen before as he turned and looked her over and for a moment she acknowledged that she'd been examined – her father knew what'd been done to her. "People who scarred you for life," he continued as she closed her eyes against the words, knowing what they meant, "And you can't start talking nonsense – they'll lock you away."

She felt the warmth of tears on her cheeks as she breathed in defeat, "You let them take Lily from me, they might as well lock me away."

"Clara," he begged, "They just want to know what happened." He reached out to grab hold of her hand, asking her in agony, "Why did they do this to you? Who were they? Tell us so we can find them."

Opening her eyes, she looked down at her father, feeling her chest trembling with fear and anger and loss and she shrugged, telling him sincerely, "The man with two hearts is an alien, the last of his kind and out there – _out in the stars_ – I was used to create a child they intended to clone to re-create his race. Because they used to own these stars; they used to lord over the galaxies. The people who took me wanted that power and they believed if they had an army, an army with his knowledge and his abilities, they could attain that."

"Clara, this is madness," Dave breathed, and she shifted her hand out of his grasp.

Mouth dropping into a frown as she held back tears, Clara shook her head, "It's the truth."

"Clara, it's _not the truth_, it's what you've _made up_," he tried to smile, inching forward to watch her grip her hands together against her stomach. "The psychologists think you've had a bit of a break; they think maybe you grew to be a bit sympathetic to your captors – Stockholm Syndrome or some such nonsense…"

She turned, fiercely, and shouted, "_I'm not sympathetic to those monsters_!"

He nodded, "Then tell me what happened. Please, Clara, just tell me the truth."

Face crumpling, she squeaked, "That's the truth, dad. I _promise_ you that's the truth."

Watching him press his palms to his eyes, Clara cried as he dragged them down before they fell away and she could see the fatigue on him as he turned and paced a moment. Then he shifted back to her and gripped the bed, telling her, "Lily's upstairs being looked after by nurses here until they can figure out what's wrong with her."

"Nothing's _wrong_ with her," Clara pleaded.

He raised a hand, "Clara, even if that's true, there's something very wrong with _you_ and until you start telling the truth about who took you, about what they did to you, about _how we can find them_… it's probably not a good idea for you to see her."

She turned her head away slightly, feeling her stomach turn over as she hissed, "_You_ can't do this, dad. You can't _do this_ to me. _Not you_."

Shaking his head, Dave sighed, "Clara, I don't know what else to do."


	15. Chapter 15

_ The baby girl they placed in front of him screamed angrily, fists waving in the air as her chest shook and he felt his stomach churning as he moved closer to her, examining her quietly. He listened to her hearts beating rapidly and he palpated her stomach and let his hands drift over her arms and legs, checking for any abnormalities – any defects – with trepidation. If he found anything wrong, they would surely kill her and his hearts felt like they'd frozen in place as he completed his quick assessment and nodded up at them._

_ "She's perfectly fine on a physical level."_

_ They exchanged a glance and he frowned as they looked to a tray on which lay the instruments he requested for blood extraction. They just needed a sample, he knew, to test her genetics – how much of Clara she'd inherited; how much of him… and he tried not to listen as she squealed, held down by alien hands as he drew blood from her heel and then taped it up, resisting the urge to press a kiss to the soft foot that slipped out of his hold and stretched away from him instinctively._

Daddy's sorry_, he thought, watching her calm slightly and some part of him ached, knowing she'd heard his voice inside of her head and it had soothed her. As a father's voice should. Except he was responsible for her being where she was and he was responsible for whatever was going to happen._

_ He was handed a bottle filled with milk they'd pumped from Clara as she healed with their aid, remaining unconscious at his request because he knew waking her too soon would be too painful; too confusing. The Doctor lifted the baby into his arms delicately, pressing the nipple to her lips, watching her spit it away with an air of distrust several times before finally succumbing and latching on and he suppressed a sob as he watched her. Only a few hours old and she was already contemplating the world with disdain – already sensed something was very wrong with where she was just off what the girl felt from her father._

_ "The Human Female will be given three days to heal."_

_ Nodding slowly, he looked down at the girl and whispered, "Three days with your old dad." He smiled when she sighed and closed her tired eyes, drinking eagerly now as he looked up and reluctantly explained, "She'll need her mother's milk every few hours; I can observe her until she's ready to be returned."_

_ They watched him a moment, but then left the room with the small vile of blood and the tray of instruments and the Doctor exhaled in relief. If the girl was too long in their hands, they might get ideas and he knew, looking down at the familiar features that stabbed at his already broken hearts, he couldn't let that happen._

* * *

"Clara, we just want you to describe the men who took you."

It was just the latest in a series of questions she refused to answer as she sat calmly on the hospital bed, waiting for a nurse to finish taking another blood sample. She half hoped they'd find some substance in there that would end this interrogation, but she knew that wouldn't be the case. Whatever the Doctor had given her to fake her death had washed out of her system, as had whatever he'd given her to bring her back to life. She looked sideways at her right wrist, giving it a tug against the restraints she'd told them were unnecessary.

"Clara, they're just trying to help. Can't you understand that." Her father took a step forward from where he had been leaning against the wall and she turned to meet his hopeful stare with her own calm look.

With a small nod, Clara asked, "Can I see my daughter?"

Her father turned sideways and the man who'd been asking her questions for the better part of the last half hour seemed to sigh out of frustration. "If you don't give us anything to go on, we'll never be able to catch the men who did this to you."

"Men," she repeated slowly before dropping her brow and looking up at him, "Men, must be men."

"Clara," her father warned.

She shrugged, "Given you something. Please, bring Lily to me."

The psychologist shook his head, "You told your father you were abducted by aliens, Clara."

"I told my father that I'd gone into space with a time travelling man in a blue wooden box and that we'd been kidnapped by a group of scientists to be studied and experimented on," she corrected, "It's why I'm strapped to my bedding and," she pointed up towards her IV, "Why there are currently anti-psychotics being pumped into my body against my will – something I'd like to point out is doing nothing to alleviate the trauma I'm feeling at _having had this done to me on end for the past nine months_."

"You've been gone for over a year, Clara," the psychologist corrected.

"Time travelling man," she repeated, staring at him.

The psychologist nodded, scribbling something in his notebook, "Why would you choose to return a year after you'd been taken, if you had the ability to travel through time?"

She rolled her eyes, "If I'd returned the day after I'd left with a six month old infant, claiming her to be mine, I'd have been considered just as mad."

Her father and the man exchanged a look before the psychologist nodded to Dave, "Could you give us a few moments, Mr. Oswald."

Clara watched him hesitate and she was thankful that at least he'd done so before he finally looked to her, dropped his gaze to the floor, and walked out of the room. The door closed carefully and the psychologist gave her a once over and then removed his glasses. "Clara, you have to understand…"

"How insane it all sounds," she finished for him. "I understand it sounds crazy; I know how I must sound, how I must look," she laughed. "And I'm trying to remain calm, but you know that whether you believe me or not, the past year of my life has been a living nightmare and all I want is to know my daughter is safe."

He nodded, "Lily is being looked after; your father is free to check on her as he sees fit and in a few days, she'll most likely be released into his custody until we've…"

"Got me sorted?"

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he watched her and then smiled, "You're not crazy, Clara. I just don't understand why you'd rather invent this story than tell us the truth."

Biting her lip, she looked away, studying the teal draping and how horribly it clashed the yellow walls, and then she glanced back sideways, telling him, "You'd rather I tell you what you want to hear? That I was walking to my motorbike, or making my way into my flat, and some masked men snatched me up and took me to some abandoned warehouse. They, for some unknown reason, impregnated me with some – how shall I term this – some sort of genetically abnormal child, who's also happens to be my own biological daughter. Then they carefully and _very efficiently _removed the infant, leaving me barely affected and I just happened to magically escape from them. Oh, and I walked all the way home, forgoing a call to the police, and then I fed my dad some mad tale that I'm also giving you because it's somehow easier than _that_ truth?"

He stared at her as she blinked away tears and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm failing to see why I'd make up a story about being tortured aboard an alien ship. Why I'd rather tell you that the father of my child, _a man I'd trusted with my life_, made me believe he was putting me to death and stealing our daughter. Why I would detail to you _anything_ other than the truth."

"Because, quite frankly, it's mad," he admitted with a shrug. "You've gone through a traumatic event – said so yourself – and it makes no sense to make up a tale such as the one you've given us. But oft times, traumatic events will rearrange the memories in your mind. Oft times you'll…"

"Tell a tale to be left alone?" Clara questioned with a shrug of her own. "Mad man in a box. Blue. Wooden. Top has a light and a sign 'Police Public Call Box'. Man inside, but mad, ridiculous floppy brown hair, big chin, sad eyes – you'll recognize them because they look like my daughter's."

He stared at her a moment, and when he began to speak again, Clara interrupted him.

"Do me a favor, put that description in your files," she gestured, "Tell the world that's where I was. Tardis with the Doctor; kidnapped by the Kukof; rescued by the Judoon. That's what I'd like you to jot down and tell whoever will listen… and let's just see who shows up to prove my story one way or the other because I'll be willing to bet my life that someone will show up with a badge or a title you'll respect more than you've respected me and we can _stop wasting_ _time_."

* * *

Landing his Tardis in the middle of her living room, the Doctor walked out anxiously, wondering if maybe two days later and with bad news wasn't the best way to re-enter her life. Of course he knew he had no choice, the Judoon had given him three days to bring Clara and Lily back for them or they would extract the mother and daughter from Earth, which meant he had to bring them back that day.

He stepped out with a quick, "Hello, Clara?" Cautiously waiting for a response.

The room was silent and he frowned, taking a few steps and glancing around. Something was off, he knew, and he made his way through the silent apartment, taking in her unkempt bed and the brown toothbrush that sat in the bathroom next to a man's razor set. He shifted back into her bedroom and swung open the closet, finding her clothes still neatly hanging, but a suitcase sat at the floor, a suitcase with her father's name tucked into a small window at the top.

"Dave?" He questioned, going back to the living room and then wandering around. "Mr. Oswald?"

With a frown, he went back into the Tardis and scratched the back of his head and then he snapped a finger, typing feverishly and grinning because as much as Clara would hate what he was doing, their daughter being part Time Lord would make her stick out like a sore thumb on Earth to any Gallifreyan technology and the Tardis was more than happy to locate her for him.

The address cropped up on the screen and he slipped against the console, jamming his palm into the thrusters and yanking a lever to rev up her engines. He felt like he'd been there a thousand times, for a thousand different reasons and they were never pleasant. But the idea of his daughter, or Clara, there without him by their side made his blood boil. And he couldn't quite put a finger on why. It was a harmless enough place, existing to help people to the best of anyone's knowledge.

But Lily wasn't an ordinary person.

And UNIT was the last place she should be.


	16. Chapter 16

They'd put her in what looked like an interrogation room and she'd begun pacing just as soon as the door closed. Another prison cell; another holding facility; another group of beings intent on studying her and her daughter because apparently there was no precedence for them. The Doctor had a granddaughter who'd managed to stay off their radar, but he'd never had a child with a human and Clara gnawed on her fingernails trying to imagine that the humans who held her now were going to be more _humane_ than the Kukof in space. Or the doctors in the hospital.

Of course, there were no guarantees. Not even Kate assuring her that it was for their own good; not even the psychologist explaining that _apparently_ she'd been telling the truth and would be given a little more _respect_. Not even her father, who had come with her, whispering that he believed her now and that he was sorry.

"Everyone's _sorry_," she'd muttered in return, not looking up at him, standing at her side.

Her only consolation was that if they didn't want to give Lily to her, maybe they'd give the baby to her father while they continued to interrogate her. And they had. It seemed like hours of being asked questions and offering what little answers she could. Clara could feel the heat rising in her neck as time went on, but it was easier to tell them the truth and know they were listening than be strapped to a bed, made out to be insane.

The door opened slowly and a woman she knew only through stories entered, holding Lily, and Clara jerked forward, taking the baby into her arms with a cry of joy as Lily gripped at her. The baby began to whimper and then she cried as Clara inched back against the furthest wall and slipped to the ground, settling the girl in her lap as she ignored her cries and looked her over.

"What did you do to her?" She asked firmly. "Martha," Clara added with a nod and a glance up at the woman in the lab coat, "Martha Jones, right?"

With a small nod, Martha moved forward slowly, but Clara raised a hand.

"You stay back; you stay away from us," she shouted angrily, eyes going red as Lily reached to try and grasp the hands checking over her stomach under the small peach and white striped onesie she'd been dressed in. Clara smiled down at the infant who was gauging her and then, slowly, the little girl smiled back. As if she'd just completed a visual check of her own – making sure her mum was her mum. Lily hummed happily up at her and Clara laughed, feeling a swell in her heart like she hadn't felt in an eternity and she pulled Lily back up into her arms, hugging her as she pressed soft kisses into her neck and cheek. She inhaled her, eyes closed, and enjoyed the feel of those small hands finding her face as she made noises of contentment, being back with her mother.

"Mummmmm," the girl uttered, eyes half closing in a grin as she raised her brow.

"That's pretty advanced," Martha offered, trying to sound positive as she pointed, "Most babies start with the 'D' sound, easier for them; that's why their first words are usually 'dadda' over…"

"I don't care," Clara spat, shaking her head and looking up at Martha in disbelief. "I'm sorry – I know you're his friend; I get that you're trying to be nice, because of everyone here, you're probably the only person who has any idea of what I've been through, but I don't care about how she's advanced." She watched the other woman staring at her with sad, but understanding eyes, and she told her blankly, "I want to go home. I _just_ want to _go home_."

Martha crouched slightly, clasping her hands in front of her, making sure to maintain a distance out of respect for Clara and she nodded to her. "You're right: I'm someone who gets it; I've lived this sort of nightmare. Obviously _nowhere_ near what you've gone through, but I've had a year of my life taken away from me; I've walked the Earth not knowing if there was a gun waiting for me around the next corner." She looked away and her voice dropped as she admitted, "Because of him."

"I don't blame him," Clara assured as Lily played with her hair, but Martha heard the disdain in her voice.

With a smile, Martha nodded, "No, we never _say_ we do. Part of the risks of travelling with the Doctor. A choice he gave us – how could we blame _him_?"

Studying the woman in front of her, just a few feet away, Clara glanced around and she asked quietly, "How long do I have to be here, because obviously I'm not going home anytime soon." Then she bit her lip tightly, releasing it to question with a shaky voice, "Are you going to take Lily back?"

"No," Martha spat quickly, eyes becoming fierce. "It was wrong of them to keep her away from you this long. Especially after everything you've been through."

Giving her a genuine smile, Clara declared, "You're a mother."

The proud grin was instant, just before the subtle nod, "Got a little boy at home, just like his father – pain in my arse – but I can't imagine anyone keeping him from me, not for a moment." And Clara found the sympathetic look in the other woman's eyes as she looked over Lily and told her, "Taking her from you here was wrong and I'm sorry it took so long to get her back to you."

"Can you call the Doctor?" Clara asked hesitantly.

The door burst open at that moment and both women gasped as they glanced up at the man who entered slowly, Sonic gripped tightly in his palm as he stared at Clara on the ground, swallowing roughly while Lily clapped her hands and beamed happily up at him. The baby girl lunged forward slightly before shifting back, dropping her head against Clara's breasts to giggle as he coaxed a smile out of his terrified lips.

"What was done to my daughter, Martha?" He asked as soldiers lined the hallway behind him, taking aim with their weapons while Kate shouted at them to stand down. "Martha?" He repeated heatedly. "My daughter – what have they done to her?"

"We've done nothing," Martha squeaked as she stood, hands held out in a defensive pose before she gestured at Clara and repeated, "We've done nothing – I can take you to the records. She was examined by medical professionals, I was there to observe it and no one harmed her, Doctor, I promise you."

He shifted his gaze to her and straightened, but his posture was still rigid, "I want her records destroyed," he turned to see Kate entering the room and bellowed, "Everything you have on Lily, I want it _destroyed_."

"Doctor," Kate began, but he raised a finger to point at her.

With a frown and a furrowed brow he barked, "You owe me your life; you _all_ owe me your lives. This world owes me debt upon debt upon debt and I would erase them all for the safety of that child." He looked to Clara, who gripped Lily in her arms, kissing her head gently and, he noted, not meeting his eyes. "Clara?"

She was shaking her head slowly and he could see the tears that fell over her cheeks as she blinked, but she remained silent. Stepping forward, he waited until Martha, Kate, and all of the soldiers had exited the room and then he glanced around, checking for double sided mirrors before finding a camera in a corner and disabling it with an easy shot from his Sonic.

"Clara," he repeated.

Looking up then, she told him quietly, "I just want to go home."

He nodded.

"I just want everything to go back to normal."

With a small smile, he explained, kneeling in front of her, "Clara, nothing will ever be normal the way it was again."

She released a small moan of a cry and Lily turned up towards it, reaching for her face and she bent slightly to kiss her fingers. "Fine, then I just want to be left alone."

"Clara."  
"No," she argued, "No, _all of this_; we escaped this. Being held in rooms; being tormented; being kept apart by strangers."

He reached out, touching her cheek with his knuckle before palming it, rubbing at her smooth skin with his thumb and he smiled as Lily reached out to touch his hand, finding Clara's chin instead. "Come stay on the Tardis with me. Permanently – you and Lily."

She smiled and his heart skipped a beat, but then she shook her head and looked down at their daughter with a small nod and she told him plainly, "She's not safe there."

Acknowledging that she was probably right, he dropped down and shifted to her side, releasing a sigh at finally being able to hold them both so close without scrutiny. Lily slapped at her sides and made noises up at them and Clara laughed through her tears as the Doctor draped an arm around her shoulder, eyes closing when she leaned into him.

"You're going to have to talk to the Judoon," he told her quietly.

Not taking her eyes of Lily, slipping her fingers into the girl's grasp, she nodded, "They're like police, right? Space police?"

"Yes, Clara, they're like space police and they want to ask you some questions. Make everything right," he finished, looking down at the child looking from her mother to her father and then back again with a delighted grin.

She was silent a moment, sniffling away tears while making faces at the girl now giggling up at her before she finally asked quietly, "What aren't you telling me?"

He released a chuckle and then it fell away as she turned to look at him and he could see the distrust there, the sadness and the anger and he knew that while she didn't blame him for the circumstances – she blamed him for the deception he'd kept from her. Weren't they supposed to be a team? _Team Tardis _he'd once joked when they'd finished saving a planet from a villainous parasite race that intended to take over. _For the win_, she'd replied with a quick high five as they'd laughed around the console, thinking up where they wanted to go next.

"The Judoon claim that Lily's birth goes against the laws of the Shadow Proclamation."

Clara shifted her head, eyes widening slightly as she asked, "Goes against them? Howso?"

"There was no consent in her creation."

Nodding slowly, she said, "Does this mean they want to take her from me?"

"They mean to take her from us, depending on your statement."

"My statement?" Clara questioned. "I've given my statement, to police officers, to medical staff, to a bloody psychologist." She frowned, "I've given my statement to my father – haven't I _stated_ enough?"

He gripped her shoulder, but she was slipping away from him, taking Lily with her and he felt his chest ache with longing for the both of them. "Clara, you just need to tell them Lily is your daughter – tell them that you lay claim to her as your biological daughter. She'll be yours," he nodded painfully, "And all of this will be over."


	17. Chapter 17

Clara stepped into the Tardis anxiously, Lily held firmly against her chest as she turned and gave her father a small nod of her head. The man was too busy looking the box over, and Clara knew under different circumstances she might have laughed at the shade of pale he'd gone knowing every word she'd said had been the absolute truth. Dave reached out to stop the Doctor as Clara moved further into the ship, going to drop herself into one of the chairs that sat around the edge of the console.

"So you're a time travelling alien," the man supplied.

The Doctor nodded, frown feeling permanent on his face as he contemplated what the man in front of him was thinking, because he knew that man should blame him for the situation his daughter found herself in. Dave had every right to blame him, to hate him, to launch a physical attack he would do nothing to stop should he choose to lash out at him. Instead Dave pushed his palms deeply into his pockets and sighed in acceptance.

"She didn't say much about you," the man allowed. "You travel, you know, that sort of thing. Not dull, figured she's an adult and she was havin' this tryst of sorts, but space – didn't think it'd be space." He smiled, "Thought Paris maybe, she got some trinket back in her flat from Paris, little Eiffel tower on her desk. Thought maybe Germany 'cause she's got a piece of the wall in a box with a postcard – never considered how new it was actually…"

"Dave?" He questioned.

The man raised his eyes to look at him and the Doctor took in the frightened expression in them as Dave jutted his chin to the Tardis and allowed, "Last time you took her in that box away from her home… _all of this_ happened."

Inhaling slowly, the Doctor explained, "There's a Judoon ship circling the planet, we're going up to have chat – to explain what happened – and then we're coming back down."

"She's not talking much to me, but she did say they might want to take…" he hesitated, looking away before finishing, "Her daughter."

With a small smile, the Doctor shook his head and told him quietly, "I won't let that happen; _your granddaughter _will be safe." He waited, but the look of apprehension marring Dave's face didn't dissipate and he finally turned and went into the Tardis with a final nod towards Martha and Kate. "Don't shoot us down," he teased, watching the faint grins on their faces just before he closed the door and made his way up to the console, passing a glance at Lily when the girl shouted out for him.

"How long will this take?" Clara asked clearly, the first time she'd sounded as lucid in a long time.

He worked at the controls and told her honestly, "I don't know."

Clara shifted back in the seat and she held Lily to her as the girl looked up around the Tardis with a quiet curiosity, and an occasional smile at some random color shift or noise. The Doctor watched them as he took the Tardis up into orbit, not landing them on the Judoon ship quite yet because he hated the way she wouldn't look at him as she gave Lily a soft set of bounces in her lap to get the girl giggling, which lifted her own lips into a small grin.

"Do you hate me?" He asked suddenly. Clara's head gave a shake before she finally glanced up at him in confusion and he repeated, "Clara, do you hate me?"

He thought maybe she'd tried to laugh, her mouth opening and some odd sound emerging, trying to find the right answer for him and settling on, "No, Doctor, I don't hate you – you couldn't control us getting taken by the Kukof and…" she trailed, straightening, "You were doing what you had to do."

The Tardis made a boom as it landed aboard the ship and he gripped the levers he held as he looked over the mask of detachment she wore, asking in agony, "Then why do you look upon me with such distain?"

Clara stood and adjusted Lily in her arms, momentarily studying the grated floor she was on before sighing, "Because while you couldn't control us getting taken, you did have some manner of control aboard that ship because of what you are, and I didn't. I had no say in how I was treated; I had no _leverage_. And I accepted them using me, but you… you used me and you used Lily…"

"I _saved_ you," he argued.

"You _killed_ me!" She shouted in response before looking away, rocking the girl in her arms because she'd started to cry. "You let me believe you were killing me and I know it was part of a plan – _part of one of your plans_ – but my life shouldn't be a pawn on your board, Doctor; my daughter's life shouldn't be some _move_ you make." Gesturing up at the door, Clara finished, "And all of this… you get to walk away from it when it's over. It doesn't have to become your life. My life's been demolished. I've missed a year, lost my job, lost all _credibility_ for telling the _truth_! My own dad keeps looking at me like I'm some… _thing_… and you? You can climb back in this box when we're done here and you can zip off into the stars on some new adventure." Clara looked to Lily, "And I… I have to put my life back together somehow. I have to become a mum."

He rushed forward, stopping short of her because her eyes had gone wide and her hand had come up protectively around Lily. "Fly away with me," he smiled. "Leave that all behind and come away with me, Clara."

With a laugh, she shook her head and told him simply, "No," and then she turned to walk to the doors, pulling them open roughly and stepping outside where a Judoon soldier was already barking at her to relinquish the child as she argued that she wouldn't.

_Not again_.

And the Doctor realized with a sudden jolt that when she'd returned, her father would have been the one to take her to the hospital and separate her from Lily. Her father had given permission for them to sedate her and keep her daughter from her, and then UNIT had come in and done the same. Clara had had her daughter taken from her by everyone she was supposed to trust and she'd been left with nothing but paranoia and fear and patient hatred. And he'd just handed her to another group of beings she was supposed to have some sort of faith in and they'd just stripped her of the child again.

He stifled an angry scream to hurry to her side and when he reached the door, Lily was being taken in a clear plastic basinet by one of the Judoon, screeching as she trembled in terror, leaving Clara a sobbing mess in the arms of two others. The woman he'd always seen so strong and confident had been broken, he feared, too many times, and he moved to her side to pull her away with a stern look of reproach.

"She's a witness; not to be harmed!" Then he shouted, "Where was the child taken?"

They told them both that she was going to be looked over for genetic abnormalities.

"She's a hybrid," the Doctor responded in frustration, "There are bound to be _abnormalities_!"

Clara clutched at his arm as he lifted her to her feet and she buried her face in his coat and he could hear her mumbling, "_Please, just give her back_," as though he'd been the one to take her. And he understood – in her mind, every time she'd been taken, it was his fault, because of who he was.

She _absolutely_ hated him.

"Clara," he pleaded, "They just have to examine her."

Shaking her head, she pushed off of him and he bent slightly when his eyes connected with hers because he could see it now – _how much_ she abhorred him – and it was like being struck in the gut. The Judoon closest to her took her arm and she tilted her head with a frown, mouth trembling as she was escorted away to an interrogation room and he followed limply behind her, watching her body go slack, as though she'd simply lost the will to continue on.

They were put in a room and the Doctor watched her drop into a chair, her elbows pressing firmly into the steel table in front of her before she pushed her face into her hands, shoulders jumping as she sobbed. He moved to her slowly, raising a hand and placing it gently on her shoulder, but she shouted and shook out of his grip and he recoiled, choosing to stand just behind her until the Judoon appeared, settling themselves in a spot across the table from them.

They asked her twice to state her name for the record before she finally turned back and straightened, understanding that the faster she answered them, the faster she'd know if they would give Lily back and she uttered a strangled, "Clara Oswald."

It was a hassle to try and make out what they were asking and the Doctor watched Clara listen with difficulty as they asked her to relate what had happened – from her point of view. She shifted uncomfortably in the seat and slowly began to speak, admitting that her memories were a bit foggy and confused, and he smiled when she recounted the first time she saw Lily.

"She was so beautiful," Clara sighed, lips turning upwards immediately as her eyes met the Judoon for the first time properly, "My beautiful little girl and I was just so afraid…" she trailed, new tears finding her cheeks as she began to detail the days she spent with the girl; days the Doctor remembered clearly, observed through the thick pane of glass.

_You were made to understand the child would be taken after an appropriate amount of time to properly nurture her – when it was possible for the child to be transitioned onto actual food?_

Nodding slowly, Clara admitted, "I knew they would come in and take her from me – they didn't make her to be my daughter; they made her to be theirs."

_Did you see the girl as your own?_

With a small nod, Clara sighed, "How could I not?" The Doctor waited, hoping she would turn to look at him, but she kept her eyes focused on the horn of the closest Judoon. She laughed lightly, "She is my daughter and every time I looked at her… every time I _look_ at her – I'm amazed that she's a part of me… and you can't take that away because of how she was conceived."

_Did you consent to her creation?_

Clara shook her head, "I _consent_ to her _life_, as her _mother_."

They exchanged a look and quietly discussed between each other as Clara leaned forward, trying to hear them considering what she'd said. The Doctor tried to pry her away, but she dipped her shoulder, throwing him a harsh look. Clara laid her palms flat on the table and she cleared her throat, waiting, but they continued to discuss.

"Is her existence _against the law_?" Clara shouted. "You're going to _destroy_ an innocent child?"

They turned to study her now as she stood, chair screeching back away from her as the Doctor leapt away and warned, "Clara."

Slapping away his hand as he tried to calm her, she bent over the table and shouted, "She is my daughter, she is my blood, she is my _heart_ – you can't just toss her aside because of some law." Clara turned to look at the Doctor and then glanced back, "She is his daughter, _she is his_… she is _ours_ and you can't take that away from us." Clenching her jaw, she was slowly shifting her head from side to side and he watched her trying to contain the rage she was feeling as she uttered, "After everything, _please_..."

_Does the Time Lord accept the child as his own?_

"Had you not before?" Clara turned on him to ask.

The Doctor shook his head and then clarified, "I had specified she was your daughter – _yours_ Clara." Balling his fists at his sides, he elaborated, "I told them, I would relinquish my rights to her…"

She slapped him, unexpectedly, and shouted, "She's your _daughter_, you _idiot_! You don't just _give her up_; you don't try to make this _easier_ by giving her up. _You fight for her_!"

"_That's all I've been doing_!" The Doctor bellowed back. "Clara, I love her with every fiber of my being and _everything I've done_ was to make sure _she_ had _her_ best chance."

Stepping away, Clara nodded shortly and the Doctor took a moment to realize he'd inadvertently called her disposable and he understood his words had justified her assumption that she was merely a pawn in his game. He listened to the Judoon explain that the child, being accepted by both parents willingly, would be released into their care, and they brought the girl into the room, handing her to the Doctor, who held her for only a fraction of a second before Clara tore her away and made her way back to the Tardis and he recoiled when those blue doors slammed of their own accord in his face.


	18. Chapter 18

Clara held the edge of the crib lightly, giggling as she hid from the girl who called her and reached through the gaps between the light wooden bars for her and when she popped up with a small noise of surprise, Lily laughed, falling sideways back onto the soft yellow bedding with its pink and purple pastel flowers. Turning herself, the girl grabbed hold of the crib and she raised herself to stand at the edge to grin up at her mother, who planted her hands at the waist of her grey dress.

"Today is a big day, Lily," she told her, going to grab her bag to push several nappies and a box of wipes into it before coming to stand in front of her, hands easily under her arms to lift her against her chest and she watched the green eyes that disappeared in a smile. "Well, it's not a day you're going to like," she explained with a laugh before finishing, "Mummy can go back to work today."

"Mum mum," the girl said simply, her hand reaching to touch Clara's lips.

Curling her top lip slightly, Clara clarified, "Well, I can't go back to teaching – it's just office administrative work – but it's work." She poked Lily's stomach and the girl dropped her head slightly to giggle. "Work's good to take the mind off… other things," she ended sadly.

It'd been two months since the Doctor dropped her back off at home and in those two months she'd been able to scrape her relationship with her father back together – though she suspected it would never be the same. She'd also been able to convince the school to let her come back part time for the remainder of the year, after which she would hopefully be able to start teaching full time again. And she'd been plagued with night terrors and social anxiety that had her on three prescriptions from Martha that she tried incredibly hard not to think about.

Clara wanted to believe everything had gone back to normal.

Except she knew it wasn't. Walking out of her room, one that was crammed to the brim with her old belongings and all of Lily's new ones, she stepped carefully around a colorful bouncer and kicked aside a stuffed purple monkey. She frowned at a pile of laundry she hadn't had a chance to get to and she plucked open her cabinets, rummaging through small plastic tubs of baby food to find Lily a suitable selection of snacks and lunch before setting her down on the couch so she could pull on her jacket.

Lily slapped at her knees and blew air out from her lips, grinning to show off four small teeth as Clara came to push the girl's arms through her own thick jacket. "It's cold outside," she explained with a widening of her eyes as Lily protested. "Come on, Lily," she argued when the girl yanked her arm away.

Plucking her hand through, she buttoned the small jacket and watched her daughter pout up at her before she lifted her back up and threw her daughter's bag over her shoulder, exiting the apartment before stopping with a sigh in the hall.

"Mummy," the girl whined.

"Forget my head some days, Lily," she told her, going back inside to retrieve her own purse, half buried by mail she was ignoring. Letters from around the world trying to offer words of wisdom and support, organizations that wanted her to speak about her '_ordeal'_, or from lunatics who told her she shouldn't have kept the child. Clara rolled her eyes at the letters that fell to the ground and she rushed back through the front door and down to the car that waited.

"Morning, Ms. Oswald," the older gentlemen holding her door open for her called, giving her an honest smile – the most honest one she knew she'd see all day – as she climbed in carefully to secure Lily in her car seat before turning to give the man her attention.

"Good morning, Michael. How are you today?"

With a nod, he responded, "Weather's a bit nippy, but all's well. How are you ladies?"

Lily made a spitting sound and giggled as Clara shrugged, "Back to work today."

"Bet you're glad to be out of the house," he laughed.

Sighing as she tossed herself back into the seat, Clara nodded and she waited for him to shut the door and move back into the driver's seat to give him the address of the day care. UNIT had, on the Doctor's insistence, made certain Clara was cared for in his absence. Aside from paying for her flat and giving her a small allowance until she could secure a job, they'd taken care of the media and offered security for the first few weeks until the news of her return died down. And she had to do little more than make a phone call and Michael showed up at her door to take her wherever she needed; Martha came to the apartment to check on Clara and Lily; Kate made certain all the documentation was in order for her to try and return to a normal life.

The man who'd been driving her to the grocery store, to the school for meetings with the headmaster and staff, to UNIT when she had to, and around the city when Lily wouldn't sleep and needed the vibrations of the vehicle to calm her, laid a gentle hand at her shoulder as she stared up at the small building as she stood with Lily, unprepared. She looked at his old eyes, wrinkled and reddened with understanding before she nodded to him and approached the large double doors that were held open by staff who'd been told to expect her.

They'd been told all about her.

And when she glanced up at the end of the hall and saw Martha waiting for her, she felt a small bit of the panic she'd been feeling slip away. The woman had assured her that the daycare was one of the best in the country, it was where her three year old son had been going since he'd been a baby, and it was the safest place for Lily. Because Martha knew Clara was concerned about her safety.

The other woman greeted her with a warm hug, stepping back to give Lily a small rub on her arm, at which the girl smiled shyly, tucking her head into her mother's collar. "She's got his charm," Martha sighed with small nod, glancing up to see the way Clara pushed her lips together. "Still haven't heard from him, have you."

Shrugging, Clara adjusted Lily at her side and told her plainly, "No, but it's better that way."

"You can't say that," Martha told her sternly, "He should see his daughter."

Nodding, Clara supplied, "He _should_."

And Martha understood – he should, but he hadn't chosen to – and she could see the pain in the solemn stare Clara was giving her. Shifting aside, she raised a hand to the other woman's back, leading her to Lily's classroom, where five other infants were crawling around, or lying on their sides playing with toys, and Lily straightened, looking down at the children before glancing at Clara.

"You want to play, baby girl?" she asked with a smile and a nod.

Lily pointed at the other children and asked, "Pay?" as Clara tugged the jacket off the child.

Kneeling slowly, Clara settled her down on the colorful carpeting and for a moment her hands remained on the girl's sides, fingers trembling as she released her. She watched the girl crawl towards another little girl currently studying a blinking ball reciting the alphabet as Clara straightened and felt her body give a small shiver. She took a hesitant step back when Lily fell onto her backside and began to babble at the other child, who turned and grinned and they laughed together.

"Clara, she'll be fine here," Martha whispered.

Nodding, Clara watched Lily slap the blinking ball, repeating a few of the syllables it was singing at her before she turned to give Clara a thin lipped grin that flooded Clara's eyes and she laughed as she blinked away the tears, telling the girl, "You play; mummy will be back later."

Lily turned back to the ball and shouted at it happily and Clara felt Martha shifting her towards the door and she walked through, stepping back into the hallway. Clara stared at the opposite wall, arms crossing over her chest, where her heart was drumming away angrily and the moment Martha closed the door and placed a hand at her shoulder, she turned back with a ragged sob.

Shaking her head, Clara told the other woman quietly, "I can't."

"Clara, you can; she'll be fine."

"I can't leave her; I can't… what if someone comes; what if she's afraid? Martha…" she started, eyes wide as she tried to get past her to re-enter the room.

"Clara," Martha called sternly, stopping her. "She's going to be fine."

Closing her eyes, Clara nodded slowly, then raised her head to take a breath and look to Martha with what little confidence she had, and she sighed, "I _have_ to go to work; I _have_ to get back to a normal life."

"That's right," Martha agreed. "It takes some time," she huffed a laugh, "I can't imagine going through what you did and trying to return to normal."

Managing a small smile, Clara nodded to her, "You understand more than most."

"You just have to keep moving, you have to put some trust in one thing at a time and keep moving." She slipped her hands into Clara's, "Put trust in me – this place is safe; Lily will be safe here."

She stared down at their hands and she sniffled and her first instinct was to wish the Doctor was there, ready with his Sonic to secure the building and check the skies. Shaking the thought away, she nodded to Martha and she allowed her to lead her back towards the front doors where Michael waited to take her to work. Clara buckled her seatbelt and she bit her bottom lip to keep it from shaking as they drove away, pulling a prescription bottle from her purse to pop a pill into her mouth and swallow it dryly.

Martha frowned as she watched the car drive away, wishing she could be sitting in the seat next to her because she knew what she was feeling. And she understood why – she'd had to look over her records to prescribe her medication and she was sure, by the amount of refills Clara had asked for, that she was taking far more than she should. But she didn't blame her one bit; she couldn't imagine what was going through her mind at the prospect of leaving her daughter in a strange place.

Stepping back inside, she walked towards the room where the man waited just outside the door, looking in on his daughter now glancing around the room for her mother. Lily turned over and crawled away from the other child and from the ball that had started singing a nursery rhyme and she fell back again, now searching the ceiling and down around the room again, pausing at the two adults checking on the other infants just long enough to determine neither was the woman she sought.

The girl's bottom lip trembled and her brow dropped and then she began to wail. A moment later she gave a shriek as she was lifted into the air and pressed into purple tweed she pushed away from, until she recognized his scent and fell against him, thumb tucking into her mouth as she shook with fear. The Doctor held his daughter firmly to his chest, rocking her gently as Martha came to stand at his side, watching the man whisper soothingly down at the girl.

"You could have told her you wanted to see her," Martha offered.

"She hates me," the Doctor replied earnestly, "And I don't blame her for it."

"I don't hate you," Clara called from the door, and they both turned to look at her, standing with her hand curled at her chest as she explained, "I don't know how, but…"

"You felt her," he finished, turning to look at her now, unable to stop the smile from spreading on his face as he took her in. "Clara, you look beautiful."

Her cheeks were too red from crying to blush, but she nodded a slow acknowledgement of his statement before taking a step towards him, struggling to keep her hands from coming up to reach for the girl now calmly lying against him, eyes watching her. Clara didn't want to take her from her father; she knew it'd been months since they'd seen one another and it wouldn't be fair. She could also feel the strike of fear that had stung her in the car had dissipated, replaced with a calmness at being held securely by a man she trusted.

She smiled at the notion – Lily _trusted_ her father.

"I've missed you," the Doctor allowed, more to the girl than to Clara, but she watched his eyes drift up from the girl to meet hers as he waited.

Clara knew she should have said she missed him; she knew it would have been the truth despite the pain. But she only stared, swallowing against the thoughts in her mind. "I'll lose my job…" she started, "Permanently, if I don't show up."

"I'll stay here, make sure she's alright," the Doctor offered, voice light.

Shifting forward, she dared to touch his forearm to inch up and press a kiss to Lily's cheek, watching her give a small smile in return before Lily mumbled, "Pay dadda."

"Yeah," Clara breathed, "You play with daddy, ok, Lily?"

She stepped back, nodding at him slowly and then walked from the room. The Doctor stood with their daughter for several minutes, expecting her to burst back in, but she'd gone. Off to work to try to put her life back together and he felt a small spark of hope knowing that Clara had chosen to trust him enough to walk away from him holding their baby girl. Clara had chosen to trust that she'd return in a few hours and her daughter would still be safe and sound – _would be returned to her_ – and he vowed not to betray that trust.


	19. Chapter 19

_ The Tardis landed with little noise and the Doctor glanced at Clara, sitting in the seat closest to the door, holding Lily to her chest, humming lightly to keep the girl asleep and he frowned, hand resting on the lever that eased the parking brake so the sound wouldn't wake the girl. She'd been right, of course, and he imagined if he'd fought the Judoon harder – if he'd claimed the girl as his own, confidently – maybe she'd would never have had to go through that final interrogation; that final separation from the child she so desperately needed to know was safe._

_ "I understand, Clara," he started, letting his hand slip to the edge of the console, "If you don't want me to stay… but please tell me I can see her."_

_ The woman, sitting in a daze, blinked. She took a long breath and straightened, as if returning to the real world around her and when she looked up at him, he could see the confusion in her eyes before she uttered in disbelief, "Of course you can see her."_

_ He tried to smile, but his heart felt broken because Lily deserved so much better than him. Clara deserved so much more than this. Walking towards her, he watched her stand and shift away and it pained him because it was a frightened reaction she'd been conditioned to having: her hand easily at the back of Lily's neck, holding the girl as if someone had come to take her again. He watched the way she closed her eyes and shook her head, a sad smile warping her lips before she looked up at him and she raised the girl to him._

_ He cradled Lily against his chest and listened to her gentle breathing. Reaching out, he cupped Clara's cheek in his hand, the way he'd done a million times, and he frowned when she remained motionless, eyes avoiding his before she finally shifted out of his touch and moved to stand at railing that circled them. "Clara, I'm sorry – about all of this."_

_ She shook her head to the space in front of her, uttering, "Not your fault." Then she flipped her hand up and told him sadly, "I touched a plant." She released a small laugh and leaned into the cold metal, staring at the Tardis wall._

_ The Doctor swayed slightly, knowing he could tell her he should have warned her about the plant, but she'd say he shouldn't have had to. He could tell her that he took her to the planet, but she would point out that she'd agreed to travel with him. She'd make it her fault because if she didn't, she would turn on him completely and, he knew, she wouldn't want that for her daughter. A mother who couldn't look the girl's father in the eye._

_ Except, wasn't that where they stood?_

_ "Clara, please look at me."_

_ She straightened and turned, hands gripping the railing at either side of her and her lips crushed together to smile at the man holding the tiny girl to his chest. "Look at you," she sighed. "A father."_

_ Pushing off the railing, she took Lily back and gave him one final nod before walking out of the Tardis and the Doctor inhaled until it pained him, knowing he shouldn't follow because she still needed that space and he needed to give it to her._

* * *

Michael pulled up to the daycare and Clara sat in the back seat, staring up at the building with a mountain of apprehension weighing down her heart and she picked up her purse, settling it in her lap. Her fingers found the bottle inside easily and she held it, bringing it out and staring down at her knees as she contemplated taking another pill – another dose to try and settle her nerves – but when she glanced up, she could see Michael looking back at her, body turned in his seat, and she could see the concern in his eyes as he stared down at the item in her hand.

"Suppose I might be depending a bit much on these," she joked, shaking the long bangs out of her eyes as he raised his to look at her and she could see he didn't find it quite as amusing.

With a small nod, he allowed, "Perhaps it's a bit forward of me to say, but, it would probably be best if you chucked those into the Tyne and sorted yourself out proper like – with a good dose of screaming, maybe a bit of destruction, and some warm tea."

Clara allowed herself the laugh before she admitted, "He's spent the day with her."

It was hard to even think about and she'd done her best all day to forget it as she shuffled through paperwork, stamping detention forms and processing grades. Clara had forced herself to think of the children in the school, some of which had greeted her with delicate hugs or handshakes, and words of relief at seeing her in the halls again. And she'd put on a fake smile and told them eagerly, "_Good to be home_."

It didn't feel like home anymore.

Clara wasn't sure it ever could, even settled back into her flat, even back at her job, even planning Christmas with her father. She dropped the bottle back into her purse and stepped out of the car, walking quickly through the front door and making her way down the hallway to peer into the classroom where she immediately stifled a laugh. _Of course_, she thought to herself as she watched him, lying on the ground, the six infants surrounding him and laughing as he flailed and enthusiastically told them a story she couldn't hear through the thick door.

Pushing through, she watched Lily instantly turn and shout, "Mummy!" And her heart warmed over as she dropped to the edge of the rug on which she sat and held out her hands as the girl crawled feverishly towards her, head shaking slightly as she babbled, until she was in her arms, slobbering a kiss on her cheek.

Clara sighed, her body relaxing again with her daughter and when she opened her eyes, she looked over at the Doctor, grinning sheepishly as he sat up and crossed his legs, turning when a small boy slapped at his knee. "You know I can't do that," the Doctor supplied with a point and a pout at the boy who pursed his lips and gave a hop, nappy crunching underneath him dully.

"Good day?" Clara asked as one of the women in the room handed her Lily's jacket for her to begin slipping it on the child, who shifted reluctantly until Clara glared at her.

The Doctor nodded, picking up a brightly colored toy to pass from hand to hand, telling her, "She's made some friends, says she likes this place, and she hopes you had fun in _your_ classroom."

Looking to Lily, she watched the excited grin the girl gave her before she released a long string of incoherent babble that Clara laughed at before asking, "Is that so?"

Scratched at the back of his head, the Doctor gestured, waiting for Clara to look his way to explain, "She says we've had fun, but she wants to know where the spinny top spaceship is and is asking if we can go for another ride."

The smile faded from Clara's face and Lily bowed her head guiltily. "Sorry, Lily," Clara muttered, "We're not going in the Tardis."

She glanced up at the Doctor, watching the happiness drain from his features at her words. Standing, she retrieved Lily's bag, thanked the closer of the two nursery attendants, and looked back to the Doctor as he remained seated between a baby in a multi-colored walker who was banging into his knee repeatedly, and a stuffed panda bear.

"Thank you, Doctor," she said calmly as she began to move away before turning and asking meekly, "Will you be dropping by tomorrow?"

"I don't think she needs me to," he offered with a frown. Then he nodded and explained, "Lily and I had a chat; she understands this is going to be a normal routine – you'll be at work and she'll be here, so you shouldn't have any resistance tomorrow."

Clara shook her head and asked again, "Will you be dropping by tomorrow?"

His head came up and he saw the small hint of a smirk as she waited for him to nod once sharply, pointing to Lily with the ball in his hands before declaring, "Bright and early; I'll be waiting."

"See you tomorrow then," Clara told him earnestly, turning to slowly make her way out of the room and down the hall back to the front doors.

She nudged Lily lightly with her nose and the girl giggled before telling her quietly, brow rising hopefully, "Mummy, lub dadda. Pay home?"

Stumbling slightly as she pushed open the door, Clara looked to her daughter. The girl wanted her father home, because she wanted to continue playing with him. Lily wanted her father home because she loved him. Clara stopped just outside and she held Lily, watching the expectation on the small face and she took a breath, asking her anxiously, "Does Lily love mummy?"

The girl watched her a moment, studying the worried way Clara clenched her jaw as she waited for some response from her, because Lily had never told her and she knew it was an unfair question to ask an eight month old, but Clara needed to know she was more than just a caregiver. She needed to feel like maybe being human and living in a human flat was alright. Being human and not some magical time travelling man was enough.

With a sad sigh, Lily reached out to touch her face, palm soft against her cheek and Clara could see the redness in the bright eyes that searched her as Lily felt that fear in Clara's heart before dropping onto her neck, gripping her tightly as she trembled. Clara pressed a hand to her back, listening to the baby cry unexpectedly and she looked up when Michael stepped out of the car and came to their side.

"Lub mummy," she heard the girl sob, before repeating, "Lub mummy. No dadda."

With a shock that froze her heart, she understood and she gave her daughter's back a rub as she continued to repeat the words over and over. "No," Clara said softly, "No, no, _no_, Lily, you don't have to choose between us."

But some part of her understood, as she pulled Lily back to wipe at the tears wetting her small cheeks, hand coming to rest on the chest under which she could feel the familiar double set of thumps, that Lily was as Gallifreyan as she was Human. She didn't have to choose today; she wouldn't have to make that decision for a very long time that, Clara knew, would pass in a flash… but one day she would. One day Clara would no longer be able to tell her not to climb aboard that blue box.

One day a lifetime of curiosity would sweep her away.

Because she was the Doctor's daughter.


	20. Chapter 20

_ The front door to her home slipped open and she stepped inside, Lily asleep on her chest, and she looked around now. With a frown she felt had permanently settled on her lips, she moved through the hallway and then into the living room where the broken mug still lay scattered at the end of the room and the prints of boots sat heavy in her rug. Clara closed her eyes, trying to imagine what it looked like to her before all of this and when she opened her eyes, the same dull world sat there waiting for her._

_ "This is your flat, just as it was before," she breathed, taking a few steps down the hall to step into her bedroom and glance at the room while rubbing at her head. "This'll have to do… somehow."_

_ She didn't have too many possessions, and she knew she couldn't afford to move – if she was lucky, she wouldn't be kicked out of the place – but she had to find a way to incorporate Lily into her life. And in that moment, the mess that had been made of her life brought a wave of hot anger over her, culminating in a burning bile at the back of her throat. She set Lily down in her bed, quickly shifting her pillows to either side of the girl before rushing to her bathroom to vomit._

_ Her stomach turned as she clutched the edges of the toilet and she glanced up to see the paper bracelet they'd put on her at the hospital still sitting lightly on her wrist. With a small noise of frustration, she grabbed at it, yanking roughly until it snapped and she dropped it onto the floor, bending forward again as another spasm hit her throat and she coughed up what little food she'd been able to keep down over the two days._

_ "Stop," she whispered, fingers turning white as they gripped at the porcelain. "Just stop."_

_ Taking a few long breaths, she lifted her head and swallowed with a grimace at the sour taste before she dragged herself back up to cup her hand under the faucet, rinsing her mouth out and then she shifted back, stumbling as she pulled toilet paper up to blow her nose painfully. She dropped the bloodied paper into the toilet and flushed, landing against the opposite wall with a thud and a groan._

_ "Stop," she told her spinning head and she lifted a hand to grab hold of the door, taking herself back into the hall towards the kitchen. Her fridge was sparsely stocked, mainly with food items her father preferred, but she weakly removed a jug of milk to settle on the counter, hands shaking as she undid the lid and brought it to her lips, drinking it eagerly before she set it back down. Clara looked around herself and she spotted the loaf of sliced bread on the counter, undoing the tie on the bag and taking a slice to nibble._

_ She took the milk back to the bedroom and looked down at the baby sleeping comfortably in the middle of her bed and then she looked around. Her books would have to be moved, or boxed up, she'd have to clear closet space, her decorations could go. Her jewelry could be pawned…_

_ Clara stopped at the thought, placing the jug on her desk as she looked over the tall box that contained so many rings and necklaces from her mother, stored in drawers and pull out compartments. She turned and looked to Lily and she felt her heart breaking because she didn't feel ready to be a mum. Not in the real world; not full time. Rummaging through the gold and silver, she smiled when she found a small golden band on which a tiny heart sat and she plucked it out, moving to sit on the bed as she held the bracelet between her fingers._

_ "Mum got this for me when I was a baby," she told the sleeping child, lifting her limp left hand and affixing the bracelet to her with a small grin of satisfaction. "We don't have to throw it all away," she whispered, glancing back at a set of shelves on which sat all of the trinkets she'd collected through her travels with the Doctor._

_ Clara shifted up, standing and moving to the shelf, lifting up the random box or doll. A newspaper clipping from a hundred years in the future about the weather – the only thing he'd let her look at. She smiled as she peered over it and then decided the space it occupied was just large enough for a basic crib. She could box it all up, every single thing the Doctor had given her. Every little rock, every postcard, every jeweled item. Every memory of every place he'd taken her. Gone and replaced with their daughter._

_ "What do you say, Lily," she whispered, turning to watch the girl give a long sigh as she dreamed. "Best thing he could ever have given me – seems right."_

* * *

He'd been at the daycare every day that week, waiting just outside the front door with a smile and every day she handed the child over to him, watching them have their playful conversations – half of which she couldn't understand – as they made their way to the classroom at the end of the hall. Clara couldn't help the jealousy she felt, that he could understand every syllable their daughter uttered, but she pushed it aside, concentrating instead on how much the Doctor truly loved the girl.

They always reached the door together with a pained sigh, neither having moved on from the anxiety of the threat of having the girl taken from them. She could see it in his eyes easily, the way his fingers flexed against Lily when they stepped into the room – he didn't want to be the one to let her go. He always handed her back to Clara and she always felt that small bit of anger that he was letting her be the one to do it. To give Lily one last hug – one last kiss – before setting her down on the floor.

Letting her make the decision to leave her behind.

They waved and Lily clapped, turning back to her friends as they stepped out into the hall with identical drops of their shoulders and turns back to the small window through which they could see Lily crawling towards a little boy slapping at a plush book on the ground. Clara laughed, telling him softly, "She loves the pictures in the books."

He didn't respond, only nodded with a grin as he bowed his head. Shifting away, Clara began to make her way down the hall when he called out her name. She stopped, turning to see him coming to her with his hands clasped tightly at his sides, nervous look on his face as he asked, "Could we talk? It's been a bit since we've been able to and I think we need to... _Talk_."

Clara gestured at the door, "I have to get to work, Doctor."

He nodded, body swinging away slightly before he checked his watch, "Later then? I could drop by the apartment."

She watched him – the way he looked around her, but never directly at her – and she gave a short nod, uttering quietly, "Sure. Later."

With a simple nod, the rigidity of his body calming somewhat, he walked back towards the Tardis sitting just outside of the back door and Clara turned once she'd heard it depart, making her way through another drab day. In the afternoon she picked Lily up, listening to her squeal happily during the car ride home and laughing as Michael did his best to encourage the girl's story. He had two children of his own and three grandchildren, with a fourth on the way, and was accustomed to the noise level in the back of his vehicle. And it calmed Clara to hear him talking eagerly to the child.

Enough that when she was halfway through feeding Lily dinner, her own plate of vegetables and roasted chicken left mostly untouched beside her, she missed the sound of the Tardis materializing downstairs and she was caught off guard by the soft knock at her door. Frowning, she listened as Lily slapped the table of her high chair and told her simply, "Dadda."

Clara smiled, giving her a nod as she set the food down and allowed brightly, "That _is_ dadda – come to see his big girl!" She moved away, eyes still on the happy grin covered in sweet potatoes.

He was standing solemnly in the hall when she peered through the peep hole and Clara hesitated, hand on the lock a moment before she braced herself and undid it, pulling the door open and offering him a warm smile as he glanced up. Of course he'd give her that grin, she knew. And _those eyes_. The ones that always made her want to pull him into a hug and tell him everything would be fine because they were so haunted.

She'd gotten used to the eyes though. Saw them every time she looked in the mirror and Clara knew there'd be no one to hold her tight when she felt lost because she could never allow herself to show it. Ushering him into the living room where Lily was pounding on her table and laughing, Clara knew she'd promised herself that the girl would never see her cry again.

"I've interrupted dinner," he turned to tell her.

Clara shook her head and pushed him towards the seat she'd been in, forcing him into it and nodding to the tub of baby food before sliding her plate over to a second seat and sitting, poking at the broccoli with her fork, lifting a piece to her mouth and mumbling, "Go on, _dadda_."

He seemed to be at a loss and she knew the last thing he expected when he showed up was to have her asking him to feed the baby and she huffed a small laugh as she watched him delicately pick up the spoon and the food as Lily eyed him suspiciously. Scooping a small amount up, he brought it to her lips and Lily clamped them shut, brow knotting as she considered him.

"Now I know you've been eating with your mummy," he told her quietly with a gesture to her dirty face before adding, "Though not very efficiently."

She smiled deviously and Clara cut into her chicken slowly as she smirked.

Bringing the spoon back, the Doctor sighed at the girl who kept her lips tightly shut and he passed a glance at Clara, now eating calmly across from him. He could see from the dark circles under her eyes and the way her dress hung loosely off her that she'd neither been sleeping nor eating regularly and the notion that maybe his presence had given her the peace of mind to eat a meal struck his hearts painfully. He couldn't let himself love her, care for her, because that memory was a hologram induced by chemicals and artificiality.

The Doctor knew it wasn't real and he imagined she was being polite and inclusive because she understood that as much as she disliked the situation, the Doctor was the father of her child. Clara, he chided himself, would never love him the way he loved her – how could she, after what had happened? He frowned, chin dropping slightly and when he looked back to Lily, the girl was staring up at him sadly.

As if she knew exactly what he'd been thinking.

The girl opened her mouth obediently, waiting for him to bring the spoon back to her to clamp down on the mush, mulling it over in her mouth as he prepared another bite. He concentrated on her, watching her slap the table to demand another spoonful and he fed her until the tub sat empty in his palm and she was giggling up at him, dark orange slobber sticking in a messy circle around her lips.

"Clara?" He turned to ask, sighing when he found her asleep, temple pressed onto her palm, elbow planted on the table, plate empty. Looking to Lily, who pouted and shrugged at him, the Doctor sighed, "Looks like mummy needed a nap."

The girl babbled, almost in a whisper, telling him her mummy was tired.

"You wait right here, Lily; I'm going to take mummy to bed."

She blew air through her lips and leaned back in her high chair as the Doctor moved around her, lifting Clara up into his arms and taking her to lay in her bed, curling her comforter around her body. He stroked her hair and she sighed and he found himself grinning, remembering the first time he'd tucked her into bed. The first time he'd met the real her and he'd been so excited knowing they were going to be brilliant together.

Maybe they should have been, he thought to himself as he lifted himself back up to his feet and watched her a moment more before glancing to the door. Going back into the dining room, the Doctor picked Lily up, letting her dangle in front of him as she pumped her legs and chuckled at him.

"A bath," he offered as her head slumped sideways. "Definitely a bath."


	21. Chapter 21

_ The ship wasn't large and it had barely begun it's tour of the galaxy before the Doctor found it. He scanned for life forms, trying to discern if there were any 'patients' on board, but – like many of the others he'd located – it sat empty of them. They were trying to be discrete, he knew, because somewhere along the way, they'd all discovered he'd escaped and they'd all learned who he truly was._

_ They picked up the poor souls, they conducted their experiments with a hastened curiosity, and then they'd dumped the bodies, or the terrified victims, onto random planets. And that's how he tracked them. With stories of horrors he knew all too well. He landed the Tardis inside the bowels of the ship and he strutted casually through the halls, whistling a lullaby and giving his Sonic a flip in his palm until he was faced with a row of them, their guns primed._

_ "Oh, hello," he offered brightly, straightening and tilting his head slightly as he sent a burst of Sonic energy towards them to disarm their guns. They turned to run and he scoffed, "Really no fun when the tables are turned, eh?"_

_ He could hear them rambling, and then the alarms sounded. But he slid towards a computer panel in the wall and he typed with a small smile, disabling the escape pods and locking down all doors. Trapping them where they stood – their only method of escape now sitting comfortably back in his inside breast pocket. He moved slowly now, towards the engine room and he examined the make and model, calculating the energy it might take to explode in a fraction of a second before lifting his hands to crack his knuckles._

_ He tapped on a microphone, flipping a switch and hearing the squeal of feedback before he laughed darkly into the small knob at the edge of the wire. "Good afternoon, this is the Doctor speaking." He typed quickly and raised a finger, "I take it you've heard I'm a bit cross with your kind – not your species, as mostly you're harmless and hope only to help those less fortunate – but your _particular_ kind. And I'm not generally one to resort to violence, as it's counterproductive to progress, but you tried to take something from me. Something _very precious_ to me."_

_ The screen in front of him flickered, a transmission from somewhere in the ship, and he stared at the notice a moment, finishing the commands necessary to ignite the engines before touching the screen and watching the eyes that stared back at him. The face in front of him that pleaded for mercy. It begged him to stop, to allow them to bargain for their lives, to give them a chance to change. Clenching his jaw, he stared at it, at the others behind it and he felt the rage building within him._

_ "Clara never got an option," he growled. _

_The Doctor started the countdown and slowly made his way back to the Tardis._

* * *

Clara was complaining in her sleep, something mumbled he couldn't understand and he glanced into the crib at Lily, lying on her back, head turned slightly, at peace. Sighing with relief, he knew that at least they didn't share nightmares and he sat at the edge of the bed, running his fingers over the top of Clara's head and feeling the feverish skin of her brow with a frown of concern.

"No, _don't_," she muttered clearly and she flinched against his touch.

Slipping off the bed, he fell to his knees beside her, finding her hand to hold as he called softly, "Clara, Clara it's fine, you're safe."

"_No_," she moaned as her lips curled slightly in disgust.

Suddenly she released a gasp, eyes flashing open and she gave a quick shout, scrambling in the bed away from him, back slamming into the wall before she recognized that it was him. Clara's hand came up to her chest and Lily began to cry in her crib. The Doctor shifted as Clara made her way back across the bed and lifted the girl up against her, bouncing her slightly until she went silent in her arms and she peered down at her with a sniffle he sadly recognized.

"What are you still doing here?" She asked him quietly, not turning when he stood and came to her side to look down at Lily, now at ease.

He released a long sigh and explained, "You'd fallen asleep."

Clara shifted, meeting his eyes with the smallest hint of a smile as she teased, "Are you guarding me?"

He thought to say he always would, but if it were true… he'd failed. _Horribly_. And the sadness registered with Clara, who settled the baby back into her crib, covering her, and gestured out to the hallway with a nod the Doctor mirrored. They went to the couch, sitting uncomfortably next to one another and Clara rubbed at her face, brushing her hands through her hair before looking at the Doctor seated next to her.

He'd removed the purple coat, leaving it hanging at the back of one of the chairs in the dining space, and he was picking at nothing on his knee, head tilted away from her so she couldn't see his eyes. Because he knew she could read his eyes as easily as she could read a book and sometimes he hated that they betrayed his secrecy. Clara shook her head and stood, gaining his attention.

"Tea." She told him, "Want?"

"Yes," he nodded, "That would be lovely."

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the counter as she filled a kettle and sat it atop the stove, waiting in silence as the water boiled and she prepared two mugs for them, returning to the couch to find him holding one of Lily's toys in his hands. He was examining it before setting it back down on the floor to take the mug she offered, watching her as she took a long sip, grimacing at the burn of it going down her throat.

"You said you wanted to talk," she offered.

He held his mug tightly and nodded, "About Lily."

For a moment she felt a surge of panic rising in her and she shifted on the cushion, setting her mug down on the coffee table in front of her and asking, "Why, is something wrong? Is she ok?" She started to stand, but he caught her hand, holding her in place with a smile.

"She's fine, Clara," he assured. "I wanted to talk about us."

"Us?" Clara repeated, "Do you want to talk about us, or do you want to talk about Lily?"

He shook his head, "Isn't it all the same?"

Looking away a moment, Clara shot, "No, it's not all the same." And she watched the words slap him before she elaborated as delicately as she could, "Doctor, there's me and Lily, and there's you and Lily. _There is no us_."

His bottom lip pressed tightly into the top one as he released her and nodded slowly. "No us," he uttered.

With a sigh of frustration, Clara sat. "I'm not eschewing you from our lives, Doctor – you're her father and I want you to be there for her."

Glancing up at her, he raised a hand and dropped it on his knee with a laugh, "You're just eschewing me from _your_ life."

Hand coming to her head, she looked away. She'd thought about this conversation for months, but somehow she thought they'd never have it. Clara imagined he'd just show up randomly, blinking in and out of their lives and it would just become the new normal. She never thought he'd have come to sort out the details of his visitations and she looked up at him, at the tortured expression he wore. As if her silence had scorned him more than those creatures could have with all of their instruments and experiments and she shifted away from him slowly.

"No," she started weakly, "No, I just…" Clara squeezed her hands together, staring down at them to admit, "I don't know what we ever _were_, really, and I have no idea what having Lily _means_ for us." She raised her eyes to meet his, "Lily is our daughter, but, we _didn't_," her voice left her and she paused to try and regain it to clarify, "We didn't _make_ her."

"That makes her no less _our_ child," he told her. "No less loved as _our_ daughter."

With a nod, she supplied, "I know – _I know_, Doctor." Clara considered him, but she turned away from his eyes because they were so terribly hurt, "We were friends. _Really good friends_." The words got caught in her throat because they were a lie and she knew it – they were so much more than friends. Or at least she'd thought they could be, at some point. "We can still be," she suggested hopefully.

"Yes," he allowed simply.

"What?" Clara asked.

He glanced up with a shake of his head.

"You say _yes_, but your body – your voice – it says _no_."

The Doctor smiled weakly and he shifted, sitting up and turning to her, "Can we still be friends? After everything that happened on that ship? After everything I did to you…"

"You were trying to save us," she interrupted.

Nodding, he ducked his head slightly and said curtly, "You say the words, Clara, but _you don't believe them_." He smiled, raising his head, "Your body; your voice – they say you _don't_."

She stared fiercely now and hissed, "Don't you turn my wor…"

"Turn your words on you, Clara?" He completed. "I need you to be angry at me; I need you to tell me how you feel and tell me the truth."

"The truth is irrelevant," Clara said, taking a swipe at the space underneath her right eye before standing and muttering, "What is it that you want, Doctor?"

He raised himself off the couch, but remained at a distance, watching her pick at her fingers, "Have you been thoroughly examined."

She turned away, lips held tightly together.

Releasing a small exhale of disappointment, he then asked, "Has she?"

"She's fine," Clara assured. "Aside from two hearts, she's perfectly ordinary."

"You know that's not true."

"Her system's a bit more _complex_. She's advanced, mentally – can solve problems ordinary babies can't." She laughed slightly, shakily, and told him in nervous amusement, "And she tries to fool you, but she can say a lot more than she lets on."

Rubbing his forehead, he held a hand out and explained, "She'll probably be about the same physically; mentally, she'll…"

"I understand that she'll be different, Doctor." Clara gripped her waist at either side and turned away from him before jerking back to face him, "She'll be your daughter; I'm prepared for that."

He took in the defensive position she remained in and he shook his head, "What is it?"

"What is what?"

"This awkward silence; this uncomfortable conversation," he began with a nod, "What is it?"

"You," Clara spat. "So unapologetic, so clinical, so much a doctor."

"Clara, I am…"

"No," she shook her head, "You're not the man I travelled with. That man left when you started making bargains with those aliens. When you started deciding how my life should be handled. How Lily's would be."

"Cla…"

"You're not _the_ _Doctor_!" She shouted, bowing her head slightly before lifting a limp hand to point at the door and then locking her eyes on his, "And whoever _this_ is, _I_ don't _want_ him."


	22. Chapter 22

"No," he uttered.

Clara's hand slowly fell to her side and her eyes narrowed as she considered the simple word as he remained before her, hands clutched at his thighs, shaking his head. "No?" Clara repeated. "_No_?" Clara laughed. "This is my house!"

He stepped forward and cringed when she flinched, opening his hands to her to tell her plainly, "You're not asking me to leave your _house_; you're asking me to leave your _life_."

"No…" she began.

"_Yes_," he spat, "You say one thing, Clara, but you mean something else _entirely_."

"And _you_?" Clara dipped her head slightly to say, brow rising painfully. "Asking questions you know the answers to instead of telling me what's on your mind? Always keeping that _one little secret_; always trying to maintain this distance between us despite saying you want us to be closer – _to be us_. What? A _family_? You and me and Lily?"

Turning in a half circle, his head dropped back and Clara laughed angrily.

"You aren't capable of that, Doctor," she breathed roughly.

And he snapped back to look at her fiercely, moving quickly towards her with a raised finger to growl, "Don't ever assume you know what I'm capable of."

"I know exactly what you're capable of," she challenged, right hand absently clasping around the bend of her left arm before she hissed, "You gambled with my life and you gambled with Lily's and you never tried to fight them."

Nodding, feeling the anger bubbling up from his chest and scalding his neck, he tugged at his collar, stripping himself of his bowtie and tossing it to the ground. He undid the buttons on his waistcoat and then worked at his shirt as she stared in confusion, fingers trembling before he showed off the scar at his chest and barked, "I never _tried_?"

Clara raised her fingers slightly, eyes going wide as she whispered, "That wasn't real." Then she repeated, "No, _no_, none of that was _real_."

"I managed to distract one of them just enough with a clever speech so that he forgot to lock the restraint on my right wrist and I _fought_, Clara. I fought because I knew you were somewhere on that ship – I could _feel you_ on that ship…"

The Doctor clenched his jaw and remembered clearly how he'd snatched a needle from the tray, injecting the monster at his side before using the same needle to undo the locking mechanism on his other wrist and ankles. He could remember the anxiety turning his stomach as he fell to the ground and then pushed off, rushing out into the hallway and beginning to follow the one compass he still had – _her heart_. He could recall with little effort the way his chest had caved in when he saw her lying limply on the bed. The blood soaking…

"I tried to save you. All I tried to do aboard that ship was save you and my methods might not have been the best and I knew the damage I was doing would never easily be forgiven, but I thought you were clever enough to understand, with time, that it was all for you." He watched the way she stared at him in shock, eyes still searching over the flesh that lay in a web at his chest, refusing to look at him. "I offered _my life_ for yours, Clara – that was my gamble. _My life_ for yours and Lily's because my life would have meant nothing if you and her weren't safe."

"And you took her from me," she cried, giving his bare chest a small shove, "You took her from me, and you could have told me. You could have held me – you could have transferred some memory, I know you can do that, I've – _you've done it_! And you _didn't_! You took her and you let me believe you had given up." Clara shook her head and glared up at him, her tears rolling over her cheeks as she choked out, "You _took her_, Doctor, and you let me believe you had _given up on me_."

He bent painfully, mouth falling open as he responded in anguish, "I would _never_ give up on you Clara; I _never_ gave up on you."

She raised a palm when he moved forward, her fingers lying against his chest as she explained, "You lied to me. Not telling me… you lied. How do I trust you wouldn't just do it again?"

The Doctor stepped forward, forcing her palm to press firmly to his skin, forcing her to feel the rapid beating from both of his hearts as he whispered, "Because I love you, Clara."

Stepping back, hand falling away, she shook her head, "No, you don't get to do that." She smiled weakly at him, brow dropping slightly as she continued, "You don't get to excuse what you did…"

"It's not an excuse, it's an explanation," he shot. "We were abducted by one of the most vicious factions in the universe – a group that most would never even acknowledge existed – and they had you, Clara. They had you and there was nothing I could do about it and do you know what _stupid thought_ kept running through my mind?" He waited, watching until she gave a small shake of her head, "They would kill you with their experiments and you would never know that I loved you because I'm an idiot and I couldn't just _tell you_. And then they took that away from me; _they took you away from me_. I couldn't tell you because if they knew just how much… how much power they held over me, locked in that room?"

"They knew," Clara whispered. "_They knew_," she repeated more boldly, "That shared… _whatever it was_… do you honestly think what happened would have happened if we hadn't loved each other? And they watched. And the second I realized Lily was our dau…" Clara inhaled, "She could have been _any baby_ and I would have cared for her, but she was _our daughter_. _Our_ daughter, Doctor. And they knew they had us both powerless against them because _they knew_!"

"They couldn't ha…" He started, looking up as she was shaking her head, "They didn't know."

But she laughed, "Said it yourself – most vicious faction in the universe. And you stopped in that hospital hallway, turned around with no hesitation and ran right at them to get to me." Clara's head tilted back slightly and she sighed, "Doctor, they knew because I knew." She dropped her shoulders and the backs of her hands tapped lightly against her thighs. "You never had to say it; it was always right behind your eyes – _the one secret you couldn't keep_."

He stared at her as she watched him, on the verge of new tears and he uttered, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You _couldn't_ even say it." Throwing her hands up slightly, she asked, "What _should_ I have said?"

"You should have said _something_."

"_Such a child_!" Clara argued.

"All of this time, you knew… you _knew_ and you _never_…"

She was shaking her head slowly, "I knew, and I knew you did what you were doing anyways. Watching me unconscious in a room somewhere carrying our child; teaching them the best ways to care for me – and _kill_ me; instructing them on the best way to _hurt_ me. _And our daughter_…"

"No, Clara, I wasn't…"

"You should have taken Lily from the start; if you loved me you should never have let me know her before breaking my heart and taking her away – I thought you were go…" Clara's words faded and he straightened.

"What, Clara?" He questioned, watching her look away, lips quivering. "Clara, what did you think I was going to do?"

"I thought you were going to have to hurt her," she hissed. "And when you came in, telling me my death would ensure her survival, I thought one day – one day you were going to have her lying on a table and you'd be telling her that the pain was to keep her safe. I thought one day you'd be trying to convince your own daughter that killing her was the best thing for everyone because your eyes were dead to me that day."

"Clar…"

"No," she shook her head, "I've always been able to see you; always been able to tell exactly what you were thinking because those eyes of yours – _those eyes of yours would tell me_ – and in that moment there was _nothing_." Clutching her chest, she cried, "Do you know how terrifying it is to know you're being put down like a stray dog knowing your daughter was in the hands of your executioner, a man who held _nothing_ in his eyes?"

Taking a step closer, he took her hands in his and he complained, "That's not fair, Clara. If I had given anything away, it would have put my plan in jeopardy. It would have put you and Lily in jeopardy – I had to keep you in the dark."

"It's not that you did it, Doctor," Clara explained, "It's that you did it so easily."

He jerked when she pulled her hands out of his grasp and he balled his fists, "You think it was easy?"

Clara turned away.

"You think it was _easy_?" He growled. "I had the life of my child in one hand and the life of the woman I loved in the other and they were asking me to crush one and manipulate the other."

"_So you manipulated us both_!" Clara spat.

"_I saved you both_," he roared in response.

Her eyes closed and she took a long breath, turning when she heard the small whimper coming from her bedroom and Clara raised both hands. "Doctor, I have to check on my daughter," she told him, voice steady as she took a step away from him and headed into the hallway to find the door that stood slightly ajar.

The Doctor followed, moving into the room to find Clara standing just at the edge of the crib, looking in on the girl who was lying on her side, breathing slowly as her eyes shifted under their lids. He looked to Clara as she sniffled, not making an effort to stop the tears that dropped off her chin and he sighed, telling her quietly, "I don't expect your forgiveness, Clara – I just need you to understand. I would never have done what I had if I knew there were another option." He smiled, "You know, you know more than most – there's always another way, but the other option was letting you go entirely. Leaving you in their hands to do with you what they saw fit and Clara, I know what they would have done. I've heard the tale from too many species and it was not an option."

"What would they have done?" Clara asked, voice ragged.

"Ejection, straight into space," he sighed. "And they would have taken notes as the blood boiled instantly in your veins and what was left of you floated away. That would have been the end of you."

She nodded, "I was a little over two hours away from actual death, Doctor – and do you know what my last thought would have been? If your _plan_ had failed?"

He remained silent, waiting, and when she turned to look up at him, the expression she wore was terrifyingly blank. Void of any sort of emotion and it was in that moment he truly understood her. He'd looked upon her with those same eyes, the same vacant stare, and he'd told himself it was for her own good that she didn't know, but looking at her now…

"My last thought, Doctor," she began, turning to look at Lily, "Was that I would rather have my baby girl dead than in the hands of the monster her father had become." She glanced back at him, the sorrow now reddening her eyes in the darkness and she asked, "What sort of mother does that make me?" Then she bowed her head and asked silently, "Please, for tonight, just go."


	23. Chapter 23

The daycare center became a daily routine, Clara called to ensure it – ensure that he understood she expected him there for Lily. Clara would step out of the car, she would listen to Lily shouting out for her father, and she would hand the girl up to him to walk by his side, solemn as they conversed. Small snippets about the weather; little stories about some planet he'd visited; how Lily had taken to bananas. Civil and quiet and quick, both stealing longing glances at one another while the other wasn't looking. They would reach the door, step through together, smile for their girl, and then he would hand her back. Clara would set the her down and they would leave, each walking in opposite directions without another word.

It had been another month and Clara hated that the pain of it all had gone dull. Clara hated that everything had gone dull. Her job left her dissatisfied; her father's phone calls became white noise she couldn't focus on; her friends, who tried to reconnect with her, had given up. She wanted to feel something, but everything that wasn't her little girl felt pointless. She hated that what had happened had turned her into this person and more than anything, she wanted to be able to hold onto some grudge, wanted to be able to hold someone accountable, but the more time she had, the more she accepted that it couldn't be him.

She _couldn't_ hate him anymore.

And Clara knew that's what kept her in limbo. She couldn't hate him, but she refused to let herself crack back into that former version of herself who loved him, so she remained in a monotonous void. She lived, but she didn't feel alive anymore, and it was only when Lily laughed up at her, or called out to her, or gave her tight hugs and sloppy kisses that she felt anything and in those moments, she understood. Clara knew she was vibrant for her girl because she was his daughter and in every look she gave Clara she saw him staring back at her and Clara missed him.

She missed looping her arm through his. She missed his lips on her forehead. She missed her life with him and her anger had shifted, morphing into a hatred of being apart. But when she looked at Lily, she pretended everything was perfectly fine; she pretended the separation was normal; she pretended the abduction and incarceration hadn't affected her at all. And she chided herself because now she was the one looking for the easy path – one that didn't involve her having to juggle her feelings for him. Except that she did it every day – just like she had before.

Clara still had nightmares, tiny glimpses into moments of consciousness or warped memories, or simply her imagination's creations, jolting her out of bed drenched in sweat, shaking uncontrollably as Lily slept calmly. But she didn't tell him. Clara didn't mention it when he stopped by her apartment on some evenings and crawled about on the floor with the girl who handed him toys and explained how they worked as Clara did dishes or paid her bills or simply took longer showers than she generally allowed herself.

They rarely exchanged any dialogue, choosing to concentrate on Lily and it burned Clara that she felt like a divorced single mother being forced to sit through visitation rights. But she imagined it was easier than letting him carry the little girl into his Tardis to return days later – moments for her – and know she'd lost more time in her daughter's life. That she'd lost more time with him. Clara told herself it was easier this way, but she knew it wasn't.

Of course she could ask him to walk away for good, but even she knew it was absolutely wrong to. He hadn't asked for them to create Lily and he loved her. Clara could see it in the way his eyes lit up when he saw the girl and how energetically he told her stories, or when he simply sat on the couch holding her until she fell asleep.

It was one of those nights. She was folding clothes, standing just a foot from him, silently watching him as he pressed a soft kiss into the girl's forehead, the same way he'd done to her a thousand times, as Lily's eyes drifted shut and she murmured into his chest. Clara eyed the Doctor as his fingers continued to gently pat at their daughter's bottom, lulling her to sleep with words in Gallifreyan Clara vaguely recognized from an echo.

"_The world is a big beautiful place, Lily. Filled with so many wondrous things, but also with terrible secrets lurking about where you least expect them and I'm afraid of you going into it on your own one day. Of course you're not on your own now, you have your mother. And Lily, she's the most amazing human – you couldn't have been born to a more magnificent human. But she's still human and that's the thing, Lily. I'm afraid for you and your mother. I'm afraid of those things that might be waiting, unexpectedly; I'm afraid of what will happen in the times I'm not here. I wish I could be here for you every moment because I love you both so much_…"

"_Then stay_," Clara uttered quietly in perfect Gallifreyan as she folded one of Lily's small pants against her stomach. She raised her head, as if shocked by her own words and turned to look at the Doctor, now watching her curiously. "Stay on Earth; don't…" she gestured at the window before bringing her knuckle to touch the tip of her nose, straightening and clutching the clothing. "Don't say you love us, and then leave us."

He chuckled, eyes finding his knees and he shook his head, "You know as well as I do, it's just not possible – I don't belong here like that."

"Why not?" Clara asked as he glanced up at her.

His lips slipped up into a grin as he pointed out, "A month ago you told me to leave."

"A month ago I was angry," Clara responded calmly.

"You're still angry," he said plainly.

She nodded, "I'm angry at a lot of things, Doctor."

"Am I still one of those things?" He asked anxiously.

Managing a pained smile, she shook her head. "No, you're not."

Looking to the girl against his chest, he sighed and shifted her so she lay against his arm and Clara watched her hand reach out as she slept, clutching the chain of the pocket watch on his waistcoat. Making sure he was still with her and it broke her heart as he uttered, "I won't stay if it's going to hurt you."

Clara threw the pants down on the pile folded neatly in her basket and then she shifted it to the ground so she could sit next to him, telling him honestly, "It hurts when you leave." She leaned her shoulder into the couch, looking up as he dropped his own head back. "It hurts when you're gone, but it hurts when you're here and I've told myself – I'd convinced myself – it was because of how much I hated you, but it's not that at all."

He waited as she stared at him in silence, his free hand drifting to find hers where it lay in her lap and he held it tightly, sighing because he missed the feel of it in his grasp, _squeezing back_, and he whispered, "What is it then?"

Her tears were instant, dropping over her cheeks as she replied, "It's because of how much I love you."

They shared a quiet smile as Lily sighed and Clara laughed at the girl, pushing herself off the couch and reaching down to take her from the Doctor's arm. She went into her bedroom, carefully laying Lily down in her crib, finger trailing over her left cheek, eliciting a dimpled grin she sighed at before turning and going back to find the Doctor touching the purple coat that hung over the back of one of the chairs at the small table pushed against the wall.

He smiled up at her when she approached tentatively, bottom lip held tightly between her teeth as she waited for him to react. She expected him to be upset, but instead he seemed perplexed, plucking at the folds in the tweed. "Doctor?"

"We're all always playing at games, aren't we?" He managed to mutter before meeting her eyes and shaking his head, adding, "I'm sorry, that sounded far worse than it…"

"I get it, I do," Clara nodded. "I tell you to leave, but I want you to stay. I say that I hate you, but I tell you I love you. It's cruel – it's all cruel and unfair and I wish it were easier to make sense of everything I'm feeling."

He shifted to her, hands coming up and opening as he whispered, "Make it simpler then."

She laughed, wiping at the tears on her face before nodding and repeating, "Right then, just simplify things because," she touched her palm, fingers tracing over faded scars. "Big friendly button, everything can just go back to how it was: us, exploring the universe with a pack-n-play and a nappy bag."

Bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose, his shoulders dropped away and he told her quietly, "I'm sorry – I know none of this is easy; none of it can be simplified in the way we'd like it to be, but us? That can be simple."

"Is it?" Clara questioned.

"I love you," he told her, raising a hand in her direction. "I love you and Lily and I can't stand this arrangement of appointments and measured time."

"Then stay," she repeated, voice breaking before she shook her head, "Why did you leave Gallifrey?"

Head rising, he spat, "What?"

Clara smiled, a tight lipped grin that did nothing to mask the pain on her face, "You were married, Doctor. Children, a wife, a home, a job. You were a domesticated man and then one day, one day out of the blue, you picked up your granddaughter and you took her into the factory and you popped off in a Tardis. I watched you go." She shrugged, "Why did you leave Gallifrey?"

He nodded and told her plainly, "I wanted to show my granddaughter more than the corruption of Gallifrey. Wanted to show her a universe filled with impossible things that I knew sat out in those stars we watched every night. I dreamt of showing her everything because she deserved everything and funnily enough, she ended up here on Earth."

Watching him giving the ground nostalgic smiles, she took a breath and then a brave step forward, reaching out to take his hand to squeeze as she tilted her head to meet his eyes. The same as always, drowning in the sadness of a long life – for everyone except Lily. She smiled because Lily got the lively youthful eyes still filled with hope and happiness. His daughter got to see all of him, all of him beyond the years of grief that plagued him and Clara released his hand to slip her arms around him, holding him tightly as he eased into the hug.

"Why haven't you gone to her?" Clara asked, listening to his hearts thumping rapidly in his chest.

He laughed, barely a huff, and explained, "She found her home here. If she truly wanted to leave, she would have come to me." He stopped to give her an amused smile, "Come on, big blue box shows up for the aliens, can't miss it."

Chuckling softly, Clara nodded, then asked simply, "Will Lily regenerate, like you?" The question was quiet and frightened and the Doctor pulled her back just enough to see her reddened face, smiling as he took it into his palms and wiped at the smudged tears with his thumbs.

With a small nod, he supplied, "Yes, she should."

Clara's lips crushed together and she nodded slowly, asking, "Do you regret leaving?"

"Every day."

Her eyes closed, "Leaving me and Lily."

Dropping his forehead to hers, he sighed, "Every day."

"_I'm so sorry_," Clara uttered.

Bending, he laughed, and shook his head, telling her, "Clara, you don't apologize. You _never_ apologize because you have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who should be sorry – I should have taken you somewhere else; I should have found some way to save you sooner; I shouldn't have had to do what I did," the Doctor stopped her when she began to answer, began to tell him there was no way he could have known what was going to happen, and he admitted, "I should be capable of staying; I should be able to stay with my family," he sighed, "I should be able to watch you grow old…"

"Instead of running away from my end," Clara finished.

He landed a small kiss to her forehead, eyes closed because the past year, having to keep his distance from her either out of necessity, or because she demanded it, had left him with an emptiness in his hearts and now, being able to hold her, being able to look at her without the scorn on her face… he felt the wholeness he'd been missing. He pulled her into another hug, feeling her shaking with tears as her hands grasped at his back and he nodded slowly, telling her adamantly, "I'll stay. I'll learn how to stay, how to function, how to…"

But Clara pulled away, head shaking unexpectedly, and she told him on a laugh, "No, Doctor."

Brow dropping, he began, "Clara, I don't…"

"Let's run," she breathed. "Let's show Lily the universe is a beautiful place, full of love and hope and brilliant things and let's show her that if she finds evil, she can defeat it. She can fix the wrongs of the world; she can make it right." Clara nodded slowly, "Let's make her the best of us; the best of the universe – the light in all of that darkness _no one_ can take away."

She was smiling, genuinely, for the first time in what felt like forever and the Doctor nodded shortly as she threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around his neck as he bent. He closed his eyes and dropped his brow into her shoulder and took a long breath letting himself believe, for the first time in too long, that everything would be fine.


	24. Chapter 24

The Doctor watched Clara sleep, head nestled against his chest, one leg securely over his, arm draped across his stomach and he played lazily with her hair. He was glad their first night together hadn't been one of passion or recklessness, but instead of comfort and reconnection. Of caresses and happy tears and small kisses between whispered hopes and calmed fears. Of shared anecdotes about their little girl and how they each saw, so clearly, the other in her.

Clara gave a long sigh that was mirrored by the child in the crib at the opposite corner of the room and the Doctor glanced up when he saw that small head lift and turn to meet his eye, a grin happily spreading on her face. Lily gripped the bars and raised herself up, holding tight to the edge of the crib with one hand while the other waved before she dropped the hand down beside the other, bouncing slightly as she hummed in amusement.

"Shhh, Lily, mummy is sleeping," he whispered with a laugh.

The girl squealed and shook her head, slapping at the bar before glancing around at the toys on her bedding. She picked up a plush book and gave it a quick set of squeezes that crinkled the pages and released a series of annoying squeaks and then tossed it at them.

"Mummy, dadda, up time!" She shouted excitedly.

The Doctor shushed her again, but he felt the arm at his waist shift, hand patting at his stomach and when he glanced down, she was grinning sleepily up at him, shaking her head to tell him, "She's more accurate than an alarm clock."

Sitting up, she kicked at the sheets and then crossed over him, laughing when he stopped her, keeping her straddled over him to smile up at her and she offered, "Change her nappy, please, while I get her milk ready?"

Nodding, he released her and she gave the baby a smirk before going towards her kitchen as the Doctor straightened and stood, bending to stretch his aching back as he made his way to the girl watching him curiously. Because he'd never been there in the morning. She reached out to fiddle with the buttons of his shirt and he lifted her up, taking her to the bed to quickly change her and then settle back into bed with her lying beside him, tugging her feet towards her mouth to chew on her toes.

"Lily, would you like to come away with me?" He questioned quietly.

"Mummy coming?" She mumbled, frown ready as she peered up at him.

"Yes," he laughed, "Of course mummy is coming."

"Off we go," she exclaimed, dropping her feet back down and turning to crawl and sit closer to his head, bending to kiss his nose and then she fell over, head against his shoulder as she calmly smiled upside-down at him.

"Yes, we go," he sighed, glancing up when Clara entered the room, shaking a bottle that caught the girl's attention. Lily clapped happily, slipping off him and trying to straighten herself as Clara climbed back onto the foot of the bed and made her way towards them on her knees, laughing at the child who was becoming tangled in her own limbs.

Clara shook her head and she reached out, twisting Lily right side up and settling her at the Doctor's side before stretching out beside her and offering the bottle to the girl, glancing up at the Doctor when she began to drink calmly, hands tapping at either side of the plastic. Clara watched him grin down at his daughter, edging himself up on his side to prop his head up with his palm and she did the same, both staring down at the girl gripping the bottle and settling a foot into each of their stomachs.

The Doctor didn't want to press the subject, but he raised his eyes to Clara and asked gently, "What will you tell your father?"

She frowned, eyes dropping to the dark fabric under her before shrugging, "Tell him I've decided to travel with you again? Tell him not to wait up?"

"Do you not intend to visit him?" He gave Lily's temple a stroke of his knuckle before allowing, "He should be allowed to see his granddaughter grow up."

Clara smiled, "We could pop in for holidays, birthdays, days here and there. Loads of families these days grow up apart from one another – and you have a Tardis, we could phone him from space. Video conference so Lily will know his face."

He nodded slowly.

"Isn't this what you want?" Clara asked weakly, feeling a twinge of fear.

Smiling, he glanced up at her and admitted, "Of course it's what I want, I just need you to remember that travelling me isn't without consequence."

Clara looked to Lily and she uttered, "I know the consequences all too well."

"You're still disappointed in me."

He hung his head, the words stabbing at his hearts and he was ready to look her in the eye and tell her he would leave them both alone, but when he glanced up, she was shaking her head, frown trembling on her lips. Clara reached out and she gave his jaw a stroke of her cool palm before letting it sit atop his chest, feeling his heartbeats quicken as he waited. She offered a sigh and tilted her head slightly, looking down at the girl between them with a sad smile.

"I've had enough of being disappointed in you, or being angry with you, or blaming you because I realized that as much as you deserved resentment, you also deserved forgiveness – as much as I wasn't given a choice; neither were you." Clara smirked and let her hand drop to their daughter's chest to feel the same double thump rhythm there as she continued, "I've spent a lot of time thinking about it all, about all of the stolen time – wondering what we could have done differently, or how things could have turned out differently – and I just keep coming back to the fact that _time_ was _stolen_ from _us_. Time we can't get back. Time we can't erase or rewrite. And I don't want to lose any more, Doctor."

He inhaled raggedly and then released a shaky laugh as he watched her smile. "And you're not afraid? Lily's a child – the universe is a dangerous place, Clara?"

"Of course I'm afraid," Clara huffed in amusement, "But she's your daughter. She's human, but she's also Gallifreyan and those monsters were right about one thing: you're the right man to raise her with. Teach her about where she comes from, about what she can do. Explain the time vortex. Explain rege…" Clara paused against the heartache because she knew the pain her baby would feel one day, "Regeneration." She looked to the girl who smiled against the plastic nipple in her mouth to tease, "Explain the jumbled mess in her head as she gets older…"

The Doctor reached out to intertwine his fingers with hers atop Lily's stomach. "Clara, you're the one who stops the ramble of thoughts in my mind."

With a rise of one eyebrow, Clara smiled.

"My girls," he sighed, "In the Tardis."

Lily plucked the bottle from her mouth and dropped it down beside her, settling her hands atop theirs on her stomach and she babbled for a moment before grinning at Clara and she asked quietly, "What did she say, Doctor?"

He bent and kissed the girl's forehead and then sighed, "She says she's ready to go home."

* * *

Clara stood in the field behind her apartment just beside her father, who was holding Lily to him tightly, eyes red from a morning of crying, but when he pulled her back, he laughed for her as she reached up to press her palms into his cheeks, telling him simply, "Lub you, Gandad."

"Love you, baby girl, and Granddad will miss you _terribly_," he told her, voice wavering as he looked to Clara and asked for the tenth time in a week, "Are you sure you want to do this, Clara? That machine took you to…"

She nodded and laid a hand on his arm, "I know dad, but it's where we _belong_."

He tossed a glance over his shoulder and she knew what he was thinking – to him they belonged in that small flat, a place he could call or readily visit. Not in some ship in the far reaches of space, far enough from him in time or space to never see him again without warning. She sympathized and she promised to keep in touch through calls and visits, but she could see that fear in his eyes… the fear any father had when their child was just beyond their grasp and walking into the open world.

Clara imagined the Doctor would be facing that fear sooner than he imagined and she gave her father's arm a squeeze before stepping to the Tardis and giving the door another knock, shouting, "Ready yet?"

The door popped open and the Doctor grinned out at her just before stepping onto the grass and closing it behind him, but the grin quickly vanished as he took in Dave's expression. The man's lips were set in a frown and his forehead sat wrinkled from worry and the Doctor wished he could alleviate what he knew ached in that man's heart, but he knew it was an impossible thing.

"Dadda!" Lily shouted, reaching for him and Dave momentarily pulled the girl to him defensively, but then he bowed his head and reluctantly lifted the girl to the Doctor's waiting hands. Lily snuggled against her father, settling herself against his chest, head tucked just underneath his chin as she gave Dave a wave and sighed, "Bye bye, Gandad."

"Clara, it's not fair," he told her suddenly. "It's not fair, you've been back for barely three months. I lost a year of your life and now after three months…" he trailed, voice lost to his sadness.

Reaching up, Clara enveloped him in a tight hug, understanding all too well. She whispered, "Dad, this place isn't my home anymore; that ship – _that man and that baby girl_ – they're my home now. I love you;_ I love you too much_, but I have to go. I have to at least give it a chance."

His arms crushed at her sides and he buried his head in her shoulder a moment, and then he tore himself away, looking up at the Doctor with a cold stare before he raised a finger, "A hair on their heads, Doctor."

Nodding, the Doctor handed Lily to Clara and he stepped towards Dave, ushering him aside and extending a hand, "Your phone, Dave."

"What? Why…" He began.

"Just, give me your phone, Dave." He waited until the phone was in his grasp and then he snapped it open, replacing the chip inside and giving it a buzz of his Sonic before handing it back, "You can call her when you want; she can send you pictures, the whole texty lot with no added charge – and Dave, I expect you to call them."

Dave held the phone, clutched in both hands, and he nodded slowly up at the Doctor. "Until she tires of hearing my voice."

Lily gave a squeal and the Doctor grinned, telling him quietly, "A daughter never tires of her father's voice." He clapped a hand at Dave's back and then pulled him into a hug and whispered, "I'll care for them, Dave. I promise you."

"You'd better, Doctor, or I'll find a way to come and find you," Dave laughed as the other man stepped away. The Doctor rejoined Clara and he reached down to take her hand, holding it firmly as she smirked up at him.

"Did you baby proof the Tardis?" Clara asked quietly as they stepped towards it.

He smiled sheepishly, "I… did make some modifications for Lily."

Laughing, Clara warned, "It better not have hideous blue shag carpeting."

"What's wrong with shag carpeting?" The Doctor asked, turning to look at her with red cheeks.

The two began to discuss it as the baby who watched sighed. She watched her mother tilt her head to make a joke and she watched her father fluster before realizing she was teasing him and she watched them share a small kiss before slipping away from one another shyly. Lily shook her head and she raised her hands, clapping loudly and giggling when the Tardis doors flopped open.


	25. Chapter 25

"Are you sure you're using the right setting?" The Doctor called as he stood at one side of the console, passing a glance at the woman across from him. He could see the smirk on her face as she tinkered with the controls and shrugged at him.

From beneath them, a light voice boomed in frustration, "You said 57b, daddy! I'm on 57b! Quite certain it's the right setting."

"She's _your_ daughter," Clara offered quietly.

He pointed, "That sass? Oh no, that's _all your_ daughter."

Clara laughed, calling out, "Sweetheart, try 57a – you know your father…"

"What's that supposed to…" he started, but the engines now vibrated back to full power and he stared at the screen a moment before his eyes ticked over to meet Clara's as she stifled a laugh and worked at her controls. Settling them, she shifted away from the console to greet the seven year old now climbing up the steps from the underside of the console, smug grin on her thin lips, with a small hug of appreciation, before disappearing into the Tardis, hand raised to her chest as she sighed.

"You really should par down the redundancy on the Sonic," Lily offered, raising the device to hand back to the man. "When I program my Sonic, it'll be bare necessities."

He glanced down at the girl with the shoulder length bob of chestnut hair that swayed as she peered up at him devilishly and he asked, "And what would you suggest we remove? Each one of those settings has saved my life at one point or another."

"And yet, _still no wood setting_," she teased.

His head toggled slightly as he pretended to be offended and then he raised a hand to her shoulder to pull her closer, listening to her giggling as she watched him steer the Tardis back up into the time vortex with a wide grin, telling her, "Started on a wood setting, or rather, a calculation once."

"Yeah?" Lily questioned, looking over the levers he swung and the knobs he bopped, predicting his movements with a small smile and reaching out to flip a switch as his hand hung over hers and he smiled down at her as she hid her smirk, amusement lighting up her bright eyes.

"Needed to break a door, figured destabilizing the molecules would work, ran the calculations through quite a few regenerations, but I never got to test it."

"Why not?" Lily asked, curious now, hands gripping the console as she waited.

"Well," he sighed, "Your mum burst in through the door – apparently it hadn't been locked."

The girl let out a squeal of laughter and he bent sideways, lifting her up to tickle her before settling her against his stomach, legs dangling behind him, hands clasped at his neck, and he sighed, looking over her face. The small round face in front of him never ceased to amaze him. So much the woman now making her way back to the console, small specks of him peppered into a grin or a flash of excitement.

"Daddy," she breathed, "You're staring again."

He shook his head and bowed slightly, lifting his eyes to catch hers to admit, "I'm sorry, you're just so wonderful; sometimes I have to remind myself that you're my daughter because the idea seems astonishing – someone so magnificent could be mine."

"Well," she smiled, "Probably has a lot to do with mum."

"Oi!" He shouted on a laugh as she giggled and ducked her head shyly.

The Doctor shifted his gaze to Clara, now slowly drifting through the entrance, body swaying slightly on each step as she hummed at the little boy in her arms. The boy who never should have been possible. The boy who wore her smile and his flop of hair and dark eyes that now stared up at his mother adoringly. The unexpected favor the universe absolutely owed Clara that they never dared to question. One arm wrapped around her shoulder; the other tucked just at her breast, hand splayed out against her skin to feel the soothing beat of her heart.

"How long until we arrive?" She asked quietly, leaning her cheek against the boy's forehead.

Letting Lily slip to the ground, he gestured up at the screen and told her, "Should be there in a flash."

"In a jiff," Lily tested, then raised a finger, "A pop – prefer pop, _can we use pop_?"

Clara laughed at the duo who were now giving each other identical gaping smiles and pointing at one another as the Doctor nodded, "Pop, most definitely a pop," and they both pivoted away from one another and back to the console. "Clara, you might want to hold tight to something."

With a small nod and a kiss to their son's nose, she shifted to take a seat in one of the plush chairs around the console, watching the boy raise his head slightly to look up at the top of the Tardis as it spun, golden light flashing down over the walls as they swung through the vortex and he turned back to Clara, shouting, "Daddy fixed it?"

"Technically, Gaby," Lily called, "I fixed it."

Pointing, the Doctor corrected, "I fixed it; you helped."

Clara sighed, watching them smirk at one another before she looked to the confused set of wide eyes that looked from his sister and father back to her before she tapped his chin and offered, "Don't worry, Gabe, I made sure everything was ok."

He breathed a small sigh of relief, right corner of his lips tugging into a half-grin before he finally laughed when the Tardis set down. Lily rushed towards the doors, ripping them opening and shouting, "Grandpa!"

Gabe gasped and Clara stood to take him towards the entrance where he made the same exclamation as he threw himself into the arms of the older man who laughed and carried him away, complaining, "Oh, look how big you've gotten, Gabriel!"

The boy nodded, holding up his hand to tell him, "I'll be four soon! FOUR, Gramps. Four tours around the universe and back again." He laughed mischievously and Clara glanced up at the man coming to her side because she knew that laugh and where it came from.

Nudging Clara, the Doctor waited until her hand came up around his back to drop his over her shoulder, watching the two children begin to tell Dave about their time in the Tardis as they walked towards the small house together. "You miss it all, don't you," he proposed.

She shrugged, "As much as you miss Gallifrey."

They moved into the house, the Doctor closing the door behind them and they went into the living room where Lily and Gabe were now feverishly opening presents while making surprised exclamations as Clara dropped onto the couch and shook her head.

"Dad, you can't spoil them like that," she scoffed.

He gestured at her and raised his brow, replying, "I'm their grandfather – it's practically my job to spoil them; isn't that right, Doctor?"

Eyes widening at being put between them, he inched closer to Dave and offered lightly to Clara, "It is practically in the grandfather manual."

"Says the man who gave his granddaughter the universe," Clara teased.

Dave's gaze shifted to the man awkwardly and then he shook his thoughts away, listening to Lily question what planet the Furby he'd gotten her came from before he explained, "Amazon," and listened to Clara chuckle as he flipped the pink and black furry creature on so it could begin to chirp annoyingly.

The Doctor raised his Sonic and Clara lifted a hand, shaking her head with a pout.

Gabe stood and threw on the red cape and horned helmet that came with his present, a set of plush superheroes, and he stomped towards his father, screwing up his face angrily to growl as he lifted a plastic hammer, "I am Thor! God of thunder!"

Shaking his head, the Doctor laughed, "I do love humans and their superheroes."

"Daddy," Gabe tilted his head curiously to ask, "Are you a superhero?"

Clara smiled, looking up at him as he considered the question before kneeling and poking the boy in the stomach with his Sonic like he'd done a million times, "Am I a superhero, Gabe?"

The boy inhaled deeply, bottom lip pushing tightly against his top lip as his thoughts collected and then he nodded slowly, telling him, "You save people – you and mummy. Wherever we go, even if there's trouble, we stop and we help and we make the sadness stop." Considering his own words, he suddenly looked up at Clara and declared, "We're all superheroes, even me and Lily."

The Doctor pulled the boy closer to him, swiping the hair out of his eyes and palming his cheek before admitting, "The universe is full of superheroes, Gabriel, and not all of them have capes, or fly in suits – though that would be cool," he turned to Clara, "_It would be cool_," he told her as she chuckled, "Superheroes are simply good people who refuse to walk away when there's a wrong to be righted."

Gabriel nodded, small smile on his lips as he replied, "It's good to know there are so many in the universe, daddy, and that we find them everywhere we go."

"Big _bad_ universe, needs all the heroes it can get, and you know what – I think you were _made_ to be a pretty big hero, Gabe. You came into this world on a hope and it's what you leave with everyone you encounter. They're all a little brighter for having met you," he kissed his son's forehead and then stared at the way he studied him with his mother's eyes, absorbing the words before slowly nodding in understanding.

Lifting his hammer again, he shouted, "To the Tardis!" and began running in circles around the room as Dave and Lily laughed. The Doctor stood and fell back onto the couch with Clara, pocketing his Sonic and looking to Lily. A girl who never should have existed; created in a pocket of chaos and capable of calming the most frightened soul with a simple touch. A soothing thought and a focused gaze as readily available as a witty quip or a brilliant answer to an impossible question.

"Sometimes," Clara told him quietly, "When they're asleep, tucked in their beds, I think about how badly those monsters wanted our children to be an army and I laugh." She shook her head and chuckled when Gabe tripped and took his sister down in a chorus of amused shouts as Dave turned to set himself on them. "Our children could never have been an army, Doctor." Clara glanced up at him, at the knowing smile he was giving her and a calm satisfaction that had settled itself into his eyes, "Our children would always have fought for the good in the universe – they would _always_ have seen the possibilities for a better way."

With a nod, he leaned to kiss her, sighing and then laughing when he heard the two children who made noises of disgust, calling out to them. Slipping away with a palm to his chest, Clara shifted off the couch and caught Gabe, bringing him up into her arms to twirl through the air, cape floating up behind him, before settling him against her to listen to him quietly discuss plans for matching costumes. The Doctor watched Lily come to her side, arms wrapping around her, chiming in with a color scheme and specialized Sonics and Clara laughed, passing a glance at him seated on the couch.

Dave picked himself up and sat at the edge of the couch next to the Doctor, watching the trio sharing their secrets and he glanced back with a quick nod, "Sort of funny, ain't it."

"What's that?" The Doctor questioned.

He gestured up at Clara as she made her way to the window to point at the Tardis in the driveway, "Well, you never would have expected to get a family out of all of that darkness out there in the universe, did you, Doctor?"

"Brightest stars in the universe; how could I have missed them."

With a smile and a quick bow of his head, he shifted forward and clapped a hand quickly against Dave's knee, listening to Lily explain that their Tardis couldn't be turned into a car because the chameleon circuit was broken. He watched their son lament before Clara whispered that it was a mobile command unit for saving the world and a phone box was better camouflage than a speedy car.

"Superheroes operate in secret," she told him quietly, with a poke to his nose, passing a glance at the Doctor, who smiled in return, taking in the amused look on her face and knowing she was satisfied.

Clara was, despite everything they'd been through, absolutely happy in her life with him and their children and his hearts thudded with excited anticipation over everything they still had ahead of them. A future filled with continual hope and unexpected adventures. And the knowledge that no matter where their travels took them, they would be running together – the way it should be.


	26. Chapter 26

**Thank you all so much for reading this story! It started as a shelved project that was given a second life by a Tumblr prompt and evolved into something a lot more intense than even I could have imagined. It wasn't an easy story to write and, I'm sure, not an easy one to read and I truly appreciate everyone who took a moment to send a review or two (or 25!).**

In my spare time I've been playing with Photoshop to make some photo manipulations for this story, as a sequel of sorts. It started with a photo that cropped up on Disney's Facebook page that showcased a small girl with a Mickey hat embroidered with "Lily" and got a bit... elaborate from there.**  
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_**OK! THIS WEBSITE DOES NOT LIKE LINKS. Soooooooooooooo... take all of the following, put it together in your browser... ugh.**_

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******c1araoswa1d.**

******tumblr.**

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******whouffle-family**


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